If My Heart Weren't Broken
by Sayeesa
Summary: Quistis Trepe, depressed by her inability to love, by chance gets reaquainted to Laguna Loire, father to his unknowing son. Rated for current chapters, ff.net's first QuistisLaguna
1. porcelain doll

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
. I am proud to present FF.net's first ever Laguna/Quistis fic. I doubt many will read this, really, but this is for my enjoyment more than anything. I've given the plot much thought, and I've tried to put in every main element and theme into it . . . action, adventure, romance, angst, drama, humor(of the dry variety), suspense. It's more romance than anything else, but that's not all it's about. There will be a lemon in the future, but only if my reviewers demand it, since I dislike writing them.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I relish the mornings for one reason-I get to slam my hand on the snooze button. My one act of rebellion, the demon on my shoulder's one respite . . . Yet, I do it every morning, and find myself having actually planned it into my schedule. . . .more of a daily ritual than an act of rebellion, now. Duplicitous, perhaps, but I prefer to ignore this . . . and continue the disillusionment of rebellion.  
  
Getting dressed, I open my closet, and haul out something stark and blue. And frown. A glimmer of something not dark and clean-cut catches my eye . . .my old peach gear. Haven't worn that since the Ultimecia ordeal . . . I suppose wearing it today wouldn't be so bad. A little six month anniversary vignette outfit. Replacing the hanger I'd chosen, I pull it out and put it on.  
  
I head to my classroom. Not as a student, but as an instructor once more, despite my lack of competency. . . it seems being a hero has its own perks. The slightest mention of desire for something, and it's served to you on a plate with a red bow and cherry.  
  
"QUISTY!!" I winced. Selphie is up early this morning, despite her tendencies to ignore her alarm clock completely. Very strange. I turn, and I paste up smile-to regret it a moment later. I really am glad to see Selphie, but faking a smile for it? Vaguely, I realize that's pathetic.  
  
She bounded up to me, her face bearing it's usual bubbly smile. In a word, Selphie was . . . bouncy. Very bouncy. She squealed, clutching to my bag like it was lifeline. "Have you SEEN the message boards? Squall's wedding is the number one topic! I started the thread just YESTERDAY and the submit count just topped two hundred!! Isn't that great?"  
  
I smiled genuinely this time, even though Squall would kill Selphie for letting the news out so soon after the actual proposal. I agreed loosely, and went on.  
  
. . .  
  
. . . I had once thought I was in true love with Squall. Yes, love! I thought I was in love with Squall. How is this even possible? Looking back, it's hard not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. But I manage, as always.  
  
I, in love? Hah. Perhaps I needed that single dream, though. I needed the slap in the face, the one I'd gotten after I finally realized . . . what I felt for Squall was nothing compared to Rinoa's passion for him.  
  
It was in the eyes, you know. I saw them look at each other once. It was something in the eyes.  
  
My heart is broken, you see. I smile ruefully. I can't think of another way to describe it. Other people say this too, people who have loved, and found that their love is not returned. No, my heart is far more literally broken. Because, you see, I cannot love.  
  
My heart doesn't work.  
  
It's broken.  
  
Oh, it's not completely broken, I suppose. I care deeply for people, i.e. Squall, Zell, Selphie, etc., etc. . . but you see, that's not what I'm worried about. I yearn for that . . . other kind of love. The kind that makes you leap into nothingness(Squall), the kind that makes you plot pick- up lines(Irvine), the kind the makes you relent from eating the last hot dog(Zell). . .  
  
But I can't. Oh, I've tried, but if love has a toggle switch, then I would dearly love to find it. I would absolutely adore having the ability to stare onto the campus, pick a random person of the opposite gender, and say, 'Alright then, I am in love with you now. Please, come and ravish me.'  
  
Yes! I DO have the occasional ravishing fantasy! My heart is broken, not my womanhood! But sex without love . . . I can't go against my morals. I'll just die a virgin, I suppose. In this career, it won't be that long anyway.  
  
I'm shocked at myself. I don't shock easily, either, it takes a lot to shock me. Its just that I'm looking at this rather delicate topic with such an objective point of view.  
  
But . . . that's me, I suppose. I can't even get depressed right.  
  
. . . I wonder what everyone would think if they knew that I berated myself for not getting depressed properly.  
  
I try to do everything properly. I am the deity of rigidity. I know how to fall and die without showing too much leg with my skirt. That alone is proof. Most people, when dying, wouldn't give a damn whether they were stark naked or not, but it would be impolite for me, Quistis Trepe, to show a little thigh whilst collapsing.  
  
Makes me wonder why I go for the bare midriff look.  
  
Hmmm . . . I'm not being very comforting. I suppose I'm to be wallowing in self-pity at my predicament. Yes, yes, the predicament of inability to love, imperfection, etc. etc. Is this reverie of mine self pity?  
  
Dear God, I hope not. I would hate to be the wallowing type.  
  
Reminds me of a book I read the other day. The title escapes me, but I was arrested by a single line of poetry. "So here I lay, a discarded porcelain doll. . ."  
  
. . .I like it. The way the prose rolls off my tongue, and mental imagery it gives me. I see myself, perfectly whole and unharmed, crumpled in a heap. No wounds, no physical damage.  
  
Just discarded. Left behind.  
  
I resisted the urge to shake my head vehemently. No, I know my friends would never allow this to happen. They care for me as much as I care for them . . . either that, or they're damn good actors.  
  
I sit down at my desk. I must admit, it's a lovely desk. However, the left leg is slightly deformed. I chose this desk for that reason. They were all so neat, so orderly in the store. I bought this one, the one they were about to throw out. Stereotypical of me, wasn't it? But I relate to this desk. Imperfect. Wanting to be, trying to be, but never can be.  
  
I don't have it in me to be perfect. Selphie is perfect, in her bouncy happiness. Rinoa is perfect, in her fierce loyalty. I am not. I am a rather bossy know-it-all who cannot fathom half the things she wraps her tongue around.  
  
I do manage sounding knowledgeable about things, though. I can, in crude terms, BS my way through anything I wish. An abnormally long word here, a curt nod of agreement, then contradiction there, and no one's ever the wiser. A gesture here, a slight rising of voice there, and I can convey any emotion I wish.  
  
Nearby, a small herd of 'Trepies' stand. I will never admit it aloud, but I am secretly proud of them. I loath their mascot, perhaps, but I feel a tendril of pride that am exalted enough to earn a few admirers. Oh, mind you, most of them merely admire the fact that I am an authoritative young woman with a whip. . . ahem . . .but never-the-less . . .  
  
It's another ordinary day for I, Quistis Trepe, to pull through. An achievement made many times before. Must I really go through it again?  
  
Yes. Yes, I must.  
  
I would sincerely love to curse in a loud tone, but I don't curse. I am Quistis Trepe, after all.  
  
*Quistis Trepe, please report to the Commander's Office. Quistis Trepe, report to the Commander's office* Rinoa's voice crackled merrily from the intercom. And here I thought being merry was reserved for the holidays. Go figure.  
  
Rinoa's job as a secretary for Squall had been going well, it seemed, for Squall to allow her to play with the shiny buttons on the console. Not that Rinoa was unintelligent, of course, but . . . she could be overly curious about certain things.  
  
I place a random student in charge-whom the Trepies glare at so pointedly that I have no trouble believing that the student will be in the dumpster by the end of the day-and head for the elevator. Garden, as usual, teemed with its own variation of life.  
  
I've heard the dumpsters are nice this time of year.  
  
Now, I realize that it wasn't supposed to be a loathsome torment, going to the Commander's office. However, stuck in an elevator with a few choice Trepies was becoming excruciatingly painful for my mental image of Squall.  
  
As an over-dosed Prozac victim assaulted my whip with benignly obvious compliments (i.e. Oooh, it's so pretty! Can I touch it?), and as my Mental Squall went through various stages of agony through my creativity with weapons, I could not help but grow faintly annoyed at the pattern.  
  
I get up, work, do various other, smaller deeds, and sleep. Rinse, and repeat. This was becoming all too familiar. Perhaps I need to do some field work.  
  
Which would proceed as follows:  
  
Get up, work, KILL KILL KILL, do various other smaller deeds, and sleep. What a difference. I really am beginning to get tired of . . .  
  
I can't put my finger on it. What am I growing tired of?  
  
Never mind this. I am, after all, Quistis Trepe. Why this changes anything is irrevelant, but it does get me back on the track. Squall is waiting for me. With a folder.  
  
A mission folder? I tilt my head. Why would I have a mission? Well . . . speaking of fieldwork, it seems Squall has a mission for me.  
  
I wait to be proved wrong. I'm not. "Quistis, I have something important for you." I saluted nonchalantly before sitting down.  
  
Squall continued without notice, and I couldn't help but notice that he was being, if possible, more serous than usual. His normally aloof and concentrated self was now intent and . . . well, for lack of a better word, serious. "You are being assigned this mission, Quistis. It isn't optional."  
  
But I'm not on active duty anymore . . . He noticed my change of expression.  
  
"I'm afraid my hands are tied for this one. They specifically requested one of us-" meaning, of course, either Squall, Selphie, Zell, Irvine, Rinoa, or myself "-to take it, and no one else can take it. And we are accepting a considerable amount of money for this."  
  
Ah. Money. The true foundation of SeeD. "Fine, Squall. I'll take the mission, I was deliberating of taking up fieldwork again anyway."  
  
Not really, but I suppose a little white lie will go unnoticed.  
  
Deftly, I accepted the folder, and peered at the symbols scrawled on the pages. I narrowed my eyes as I drilled the information into my head.  
  
Oh, my. I shook my head.  
  
General Caraway had recently been elected president of Galbadia. (Rinoa, to my knowledge, hadn't even recognized this fact, but I digress.) It appears he plans on signing a treaty with Esthar. However, various radicals and similar groupings are vehemently against such a alliance, and has threatened to tear this down by force. Apparently it was being taken seriously, because I was getting hired as a bodyguard.  
  
Ah. A bodyguard mission. How I loathe them. You stand there, and wait. And watch over an overly paranoid politician, who A) Is most likely getting attacked for a very good reason, OR b) is just being paranoid. And, if their paranoia served correctly, you take down the offender in one hit.  
  
And it was the tedious sort of boredom, the most annoying kind, because you had to stay alert. You really can't doze off and just pretend, as much as you would like to on such a mission.  
  
Squall knew I hated these things. Yet, he was giving it to me anyway . . . why me? Hypothetical question, yes.  
  
I fought with the urge to rub my temple. I could have sworn that was a headache, not a twitching vein. "I'll finish reading this tonight, Squall. When do I leave?"  
  
With at least the grace to look apologetic, he answered. "Tomorrow evening. Listen, I know it doesn't give that much time, but this was handed to us last minute, and though we'd never normally accept such a request . . ." He hesitated.  
  
General Caraway was his fiancé's father. He didn't want to piss off Rinoa before the wedding. Understandable. . . God hath no fury like that of a woman scorned. "I understand, Squall."  
  
Well, as much as I'd like to, anyway.  
  
Now heading back to class, I'm alone in the elevator. Alone. Strange. I haven't been alone for awhile. Granted, I do have my dorm, but being positioned near the center of Garden activity, the sounds of the students and teachers were always there. But the insulated walls of the elevator blocked all noise.  
  
As I said, I was alone.  
  
I wondered why this made me uncomfortable. After all, I am Quistis Trepe. The Ice Queen. Save the Queen? Hah. The Queen saves herself.  
  
I am an intelligent young woman. I do not have deep, brooding thoughts. I do not suffer from angst and trudge about the Garden grounds in dark colors and heavy boots.  
  
I am not depressed; I don't know how to get depressed.  
  
So . . . why did the silence irk me so?  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
My butt hurt. A lot. Ow.  
  
I've been sittin' all day! Duh, of course my butt's going to get a bit cranky. I scowled at the papers in front of me. I wish Kiros were here to help, but no, he had to abandon me for a date. With MY secretary.  
  
Sure, Ward my man is still here! But Kiros is the only one who can figure out what the hell he's thinking.  
  
I sign my signature with an extra squiggly line. Hey, my name looks cool like that. Laguna Loire, President of Esthar.  
  
Seems I've gone up in the world . . . I'm thirsty. Wish I had a coffee. With lots of cream, and sugar. And a cool umbrella thing in it. . . yeah, I know coffee doesn't usually have umbrellas in it. But I think they look cool.  
  
I stretch my arms above my head and lean back. Y'know, this whole leader thing was pretty tiring. I mean, I like it a lot, making a difference in the world, and all, but man. When you weren't out fighting bad guys and saving the nation from one crisis or another, it got pretty damn boring, if you'll excuse my language.  
  
" . . . " Ward got my attention.  
  
I swiveled in my chair. "Wha-at? I'm workin', see?" Yup. Constantly signing stuff.  
  
He shook his head. Great. Without Kiros here, it was '20 Questions' until I figured out what Ward wanted.  
  
Lucky for me, he was pretty clear. Ward waved a fancy looking piece of paper at me. I grinned, and snatched at it.  
  
"Whoa, big guy, that's mine! Top president stuff, hey?" Still grinning, I scanned over it. Seal of Galbadia, handwritten. That meant it was really mportant. "What is it, anyway?"  
  
Blah . . . blah blah blah . . . fancy words . . . General Caraway . . . understanding between two great nations. . . "Oh, yeah! That big treaty! I agreed to that, when is it?  
  
Ward snapped the paper away from me, and handed me an envelope. I read the info on it . . . oh. "Oh. Damn. That treaty thing is in TWO DAYS?!"  
  
Ward shook his head and pointed at the calendar. No, it was tomorrow. I shook my head. "Ward, my man, why don't you tell me these things? I gotta get packed!"  
  
Ward let out as much of a sigh as he could. He knows I'm smarter than I act . . . I suppose since I never got to be a real journalist, I gave up on the pretense of being smart . . .  
  
I abandoned my office and jogged down the hall. I winked at couple people taking a tour, and waved at the guards. Yup, lookit me, the cuddly president of our fine nation!  
  
I fumbled with my room's keys. It wasn't really a room, more of an apartment. A really big, posh apartment, in a place called the Presidential Residence.  
  
I rammed a couple of clothes into my suitcase. Man, time really does fly when you get busy! I can really get into the whole president thing. I guess it's my natural skill, my incredible good looks, and let's not forget my unspeakable modesty.  
  
What else should I take? I read over the paper again; without an audience, I can be serious about this. And lo and behold, it seems terrorists have threatened to blow me up again. Geez. I grabbed a spare Uzi and my machine gun and tossed it on top of the pile.  
  
Hmm . . . wallet, check. Passport-would I really need that?-check. Photograph . . . check. I blink.  
  
My old photo of Raine. My chest settled into a familiar lump . . .man, I missed her. I missed her smile. I missed her kisses. I missed her eyes. I missed her scolding at me for digging in the fridge.  
  
. . . I'd left her behind. I'd gone after Ellone, like I'd promised I would. Raine had seemed anxious, but I told her that everything would be alright, and that I'd be back before the year was out. Raine had bit her lip, but nodded, and smiled.  
  
I left, and ten months later, I found Ellone. And I'd brought her back, like I'd promised I would. And found that Raine had died, giving birth to my kid.  
  
I hadn't even known she was pregnant.  
  
I stared at her face, her own timeless grin, forever stilled on that piece of paper. She was . . . gone. But the photo didn't know that. It showed every detail, every sparkle in her eye. Every joy in her heart shone from within, to without.  
  
This was . . . all that was left of her, really. Except for Squall.  
  
I'd let Ellone stay with Edea because Edea had been doing wonders to help with her powers. Ellone had liked Edea, Edea had been a good friend. But I'd left Squall too.  
  
I don't know why I'd done that. Hell, when I'd first seen him, on the spaceship, I hadn't even known he was my son. Ellone told me that a couple days later, with one of her dream thingys.  
  
Squall Leonhart. Raine Leonhart. Did Squall know that it wasn't just a coincidence, the last names? Did he even know what his mother's last name was?  
  
Why hadn't Raine named him Loire? Didn't she care for me enough? I'd given her that ring. She'd cared for me enough to get engaged, but not enough to give her son my name?  
  
Damn it. I had fought and captured an evil sorceress, led a nation out of a pit, and I was scared to death of telling my own son his mothers name.  
  
Figures, doesn't it? I guess so. I'd gone once after that to see him. Squall, I mean. Ellone was still there, and Squall, seeing her so enthusiastically welcoming me, had solemnly held out his hand for me to shake it. He was quiet, but I saw him in a fight with another one of the kids.  
  
He had been winning.  
  
Well, before Edea had put a halt to it. I'd been rooting him from a window, kind of proud of him, but . . . I should have told him then. He was young, he would have been overjoyed to know he had a father after all. But even then, I'd chickened out over a six year old.  
  
And now, Squall was leader of the last remaining Garden. The last of the Elite forces, the Commander of SeeD. Position, rank, fame, heroism.  
  
I can't say I don't have a clue about those kinds of things, since I do. But hey, I wasn't the one who'd gone into time compression.  
  
I admit, I hadn't been too sure he'd make it. He didn't look like the love and faith kind of guy, if you know what I mean. But he'd done it. He'd made it. Yeah, and I'd had the perfect opportunity to tell him who his parents were. Then again, what could I have done?  
  
Immediately, a corny vision of me in a freaky black mask, and him dangling off a pole, came to mind.  
  
"Squall. I AM your father."  
  
Nah, I don't think he'd be a big fan of Star Wars. And I'm not too happy with the fact that the next line was big denying "NOOOOO!!" or something to that effect. I shook my head. What a crappy father I was. I stared at Raine's picture, before putting it down again.  
  
" . . ." I looked up. Ward?! How long had he been there?  
  
"Waaah!" I stood up abruptly. "Eh heh heh . . ." I scratched my head. Caught.  
  
"Hey, Ward! Uh . . . how long you been there? You coulda spoke up, you know!"  
  
Ward looked at me. Aw, no . . . "Wait, not like that of course! Just an expression! But jeez, man, don't do that to a guy!"  
  
He shook his head. " . . . "  
  
"Uh . . . yeah. Right back at ya."  
  
I dumped my stuff in the suitcase-being careful of the old photo-before slamming it shut. It wouldn't close at first, so I had to sit on it a couple times. I handed it to Ward.  
  
Kiros and Ward are my guys. My buddies. They're my advisors, too, but they're my friends. The best a guy could have; I know. It's a real job keeping me in line, trust me. Speaking of keeping in line . . .  
  
I turned to Ward, grinning. "You know, Kiros is probably gonna need the night, so I was hoping to drag you along for my guard person. I'm gonna need decent company with all the creepy politicians."  
  
" . . . " Ward nodded, and grinned. I grinned too.  
  
"Hey! I think I understood that one! You said 'That's what I'm here for,' right?" I nodded proudly.  
  
Ward grinned wider (Hey, I'm getting better at this!), and left with my bag.  
  
Now that I think about it . . . I wished he'd left it. I'd packed my photo of Raine.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
The first chapter is up. Joy. I'd like someone to tell me how to use italics, as the document manager seems to have a certain dislike for my writing. And since I failed to add a disclaimer at the top, here it is. I do not own Final Fantasy VIII. I never will. Now you can't sue me, you callous bastards.  
  
Love is compared to war all the time. I can't count the phrases on my fingers; there are too many. Make love, not war. Love is like war--simple to begin, but the devil to get out. All's fair in love and war.  
  
"Farewell," says the dying man to his reflection in the mirror... "We shall not meet again." --Paul Valéry 


	2. unfragile minds

Why, thank you. I'm glad you liked it, everyone. I'm surprised I got reviewed at all, being in such an obscure coupling. Had I done Quistis/Seifer, no doubt there would have been more.  
  
If anyone could mention a summary that would better fit the story, I would gladly consider it. I'd like one that will bring up more searches in the 'Find' menu.  
  
Enjoy the second installment.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I loathe trains. Selphie couldn't be freed to pilot the Ragnorak and deliver me to Galbadia, so I was given a train ticket. And though the SeeD car is very posh and decorated, I'm afraid the cushions leave much to be desired.  
  
Of course, my rigid stance didn't help. Shoulders back, feet tucked, spine straight. That invisible thread pulling on my head and all. No doubt I could be comfortable if I sprawled upon that bed, but the stewardess might stop by. Can't look undignified, not even for a waitress.  
  
I was extremely uncomfortable, but my pride is maintained.  
  
Yes, I do have pride. An insubstantial amount, I might say, and in limited places, but I keep my pride together, and in return, it keeps me intact. I keep my pride in certain things.  
  
For instance, I shoulder my own problems now. This used to not be so, of course, and now I'm getting as bad as Squall was at one point. But you see, I'm beginning to see his logic back then. No one should have to carry another's burden. Trying to give it to someone else says that you can't take the heat.  
  
I'm Quistis Trepe. I can take it.  
  
It's a very sensible, self sufficient point of view, looking at it objectively.  
  
I also take pride in appearance. The fact that people see me as a responsible collected young woman is important to me. I am of a calm manner. Cool as a cucumber. Crisp as iceberg lettuce.  
  
I'm a venerable salad.  
  
I'm beginning to wonder if the whole appearance thing is turning into a chore.  
  
I indulge in a certain vice, though. Pride in my looks. Vanity, some may call it. Though I am never going to advertise the fact the fact that I have a great body, I can soothe myself in knowing that I have one. My bathroom could house a Bath & Body Works.  
  
Oils, soaps, shampoos. . .I have great skin. It takes work, but I can tell myself truthfully that I am somewhat attractive.  
  
The stewardess popped in. "Miss, would you like a beverage? We have an excellent selection of-"  
  
"No. No, I'm fine. . ." I interrupted before she can continue her tirade of drinks and wines. Wines. I would love a drink. ". . . Perhaps a red burgundy. A small glass, please."  
  
Drinking? What was I doing drinking? I'm not overly fond of the activity. And before a mission, too; I should've been ashamed of myself.  
  
I . . . think I already was.  
  
That thought hit me with a shock. Ice water. I am Quistis Trepe. Am I ashamed of being Quistis Trepe?  
  
I don't know.  
  
An electronic bell sounds. **Deling City, next stop. If this is your planned destination, please gather all personal belongings and prepare for arrival. Have a nice day.**  
  
I look around. My personal belongings were contained in a small suitcase. I didn't have many, and my most valuable was my whip. Save the Queen, ruby and gold. Blood and flame. Crimson . . . and . . .  
  
What was I thinking about? This is ridiculous.  
  
The stewardess returned with my wine. For all of her mousey hair and self, a shining new ring was on her finger. I accepted the wine with a thank you, but as she turned to leave, something within me made me speak.  
  
"What's he like?" I blurted out. Uncharacteristic of me. She turned around and looked at me confusedly. "What?"  
  
I pointed to her ring. "I asked what he was like." Why was I asking in the first place? Maybe because I had my mind on Squall's wedding. Maybe because if I couldn't love, I wanted a second-hand account.  
  
I hoped it was because of Squall's wedding.  
  
The girl must have spotted a girl moment, because she grinned and launched into a praise filled description of her affianced. He was sweet and kind, but tough as nails when necessary. He was funny, handsome, and even if he had a somewhat lacking common sense, he knew how to make her smile. And he was a good kisser.  
  
I filed away this information. You never knew, you see, when you might have to play a besotted and rather sappy waitress during a mission. Seriously.  
  
I nodded and cooed appropriately for another five minutes before I informed her that I had to get off, and perhaps we'd meet again. She said similar farewells and we went our separate ways.  
  
I got off the train. The station's occupants hurtled me left and right, but with appropriate use of my elbows I managed to reach decent air once more. Or, as decent as you can get anywhere in the general vicinity of Deling City.  
  
Ah. Deling, shall we say, was not a fond place for me. I had given Rinoa a deserved scolding, and then crawled right back to ask for forgiveness. Another example of my emotional weakness back then. I had endangered the mission with my foolishness. I'd managed to fix this folly, of course . . . but in the process I had rearranged the General's living room a bit.  
  
I hopped a bus to Caraway's mansion, and I hoped he wouldn't recognize me as the one who had inadvertently broken his glassware.  
  
Huge and tacky stone buildings were the construction of choice here in Deling. Trying to look Italianesque, succeeding in looking haughty and rich. Caraway's mansion was no different, I'm afraid.  
  
A butler with a pinched face greets me, and I give some stupid password-a phrase involving a demon's angel lover-to gain access to the parlor. This much was just as I remembered it, actually. Except for the fact that the china cabinet was locked. Ah.  
  
I sat at attention, waiting for my client to arrive. I wished I'd taken more than one drink on the train. Or ordered a bottle. I was shaking for some reason. Maybe I was cold.  
  
Yes. It was autumn, after all. Extremely early autumn, perhaps, but I sill had the right to be cold in the fall. Even if the temperature was about eighty something degrees.  
  
"Ah. Quistis Trepe?" I turned my head sharply. It seemed that my awareness was down a bit today.  
  
The general stood in the doorway. Ah, more medals, I see. Surprising; he didn't look like he'd seen any military action lately. Must be some presidential thing.  
  
I stood and shook hands. "It's a pleasure to work with you again, sir." I said formally. Formalities are skill at which I excel. He smiled briefly in return.  
  
"Likewise, Ms. Trepe. May I be so bold as to ask that we forego the pleasantries and head straight to business?" He straightened his coat and sat across from me. Well, so much for dazzling him with my intelligence.  
  
"Of course, General." Wait one moment. . . didn't he care at all about . . ? "Although, I'm surprised you aren't inquiring after your daughter."  
  
He flinched slightly-not really visibly, but I could tell that I'd hit an undesirable topic. "I'm sorry, sir, I shouldn't have brought that up." I was sincere in my apology. "It was uncalled for-"  
  
"No, no, it's quite alright. I . . . I doubt she'd call herself that anymore," he replied wistfully. "She's not . . . exactly . . . the most affectionate daughter I could hope for . . . Is she well?"  
  
I hesitated. He was Rinoa's father; shouldn't he know about the wedding? Would I get away with it without Rinoa finding out who told him? Most likely not, but I really couldn't see how he could go without knowing . . . "You do remember Squall Leonhart, yes?" My voice betrayed nothing of my doubts about telling him this.  
  
Caraway looked faintly interested. "Yes, I do. Intelligent, and a damn good fighter, pardon the language." Probably wondering what he had to do with his daughter. He obviously hadn't heard the news.  
  
I didn't hesitate a moment. I sipped delicately at my water, before continuing. "They're engaged. Rinoa and Squall."  
  
Caraway stilled. He stared at me, as if not believing me. I really can't put myself in his shoes, nor do I want to.  
  
He shook his head slowly. "I . . . see. Thank you for telling me this." He looked down, and blinked a few times. He looked back up at me. "Is . . . are they . . . happy?"  
  
What? Oh, of course. "They are very much in love, General." Very much in love.  
  
The General shook his head, and stared out the window. We sat in silence for a while longer, until he handed me a manila folder containing more specific orders, and summoned a maid to show me to my room.  
  
The suite I've been given is far too cheerful. White and rose. I go through my nightly rituals and slip between the sheets, relishing in the cool cotton on my skin.  
  
My life is too complicated for even me.  
  
. . .  
  
I've been awake for far too long now. Normally I'm out like a light. But then, I haven't really tried to sleep yet either.  
  
My psyche has always been fairly predictable. But . . . now, it heads off- track every moment it gets. As you've noticed, not doubt.  
  
. . . I wondered why . . .  
  
I'm beginning to wonder about a lot of things lately.  
  
I shift between he comforter and the sheets. This room is so . . . empty. I'm alone. It's so silent.  
  
I've been musing about myself too much. I am imperfect, despite all attempts and appearances. I am incapable of love. So what? I can take anything you throw at me. I can handle it, can't I? Do I have a choice in the matter?  
  
No, I don't have a choice. I have to take it. I'm not that inadequate.  
  
. . . am I?  
  
Being here is more proof of my inadequacy, you know.  
  
You see, I'm here on a bodyguard mission. An easy type of mission. A mission type usually reserved for the lowest class SeeDs, classed at 9 or 10, level 13 or 14. So what am I, a Class A SeeD, level 98, doing here?  
  
Perhaps they don't trust me. I, Quistis Trepe, am a failure, and thus, untrustworthy. I wish this wasn't so. Do the others really think this of me?  
  
I really don't want this anymore. Any of this.  
  
I sit up slowly, the sheets pooling around me. The blue darkness shimmers on my hair, which blocks my eyes. I straighten my back. I clear my throat; sounding unusually loud in the quiet of the night.  
  
"I," I declare shakily, "am Quistis Trepe."  
  
That phrase . . . my solace, my consolation . . . it brings me no comfort. It doesn't comfort me. It always has before. What's wrong with me?  
  
I blink, and wryly, the corners of my mouth turn up. It seems I have done something right after all. I am truly and properly depressed.  
  
I fall back upon the pillows and close my eyes. Thinking that sleep wouldn't come for a while, of course. And I was wrong.  
  
As usual.  
  
The sun woke me up. It peeked cheerfully at me through the curtains, and I yawned loudly in response. Dawn had just broken.  
  
A fond childhood memory of mine, one of the few I have, comes to mind. Matron was waking us up, and I was watching as she knelt over a cuddled form. It might have been Zell, or Seifer, I forget which, but whomever it was, Matron had woken them up with a smile, saying, "Rise and shine, wake up! Look, the sun greets you!"  
  
The muffled, childish response was less than enthusiastic. "Tell the sun to stuff it."  
  
I believe I sympathize with those emotions.  
  
I had washed my peach outfit, and Caraway wouldn't know I'd worn it just the other day, so I pulled it on. After neglecting it for so long, I remember exactly why I wore it so often back then.  
  
I had loved this outfit dearly, when I had fought in it with Squall, Selphie, Zell, Rinoa, and Irvine, traveling the earth in the Ragnorak, fighting for the world against the evil of Ultimecia. Such wonderful times . . . I had been the happiest, I think, during then.  
  
No time to reminisce . . . my mission begins at noon. I had about six free hours before I report for duty.  
  
The various threats surrounding the treaty signing had been taken very seriously, it appeared. Extra precautions would be taken. The actual signing would be at noon, in a private chamber, and a single expertly trained bodyguard would be allowed to each leader.  
  
I was Caraway's.  
  
Then, the formal signing would occur later in the evening, for sake of the public. Extreme security measures would be taken for this event, but I didn't concern myself with those details. My place was with the General, that's all I had to know.  
  
A bodyguard job.  
  
I blinked back that thought.  
  
I headed to the dining room-I hopes of breakfast-and took a seat. A maid asked if I need anything, and I requested a coffee. I would have preferred a drink, but this early in the morning, and before a mission, it would be unwise.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
"Hey, Ward, can't we take the train? I mean, the Apocalypse is great for travel and all, but trains are so much cooler." I yawned loudly.  
  
" . . . " Ward twitched. Yeah, real communicative. But that was a no. I wriggled in my seat.  
  
Yeah, Esthar made three ships eighteen years ago, to send Sorceress Adel into space. One was the Nirvana, which got hit by an asteroid just three months after the mission. The second was the Apocalypse, my personal travel thingy.  
  
The last was the Ragnorak, which Squall had inadvertently found a few years after it had disappeared.  
  
Yeah. He'd supposedly leaped out of a spaceship to find a girl. Rinoa Heartilly.  
  
Daughter of Julia Heartilly.  
  
Eh. This was great. Squall had seen me trysting with his girlfriend's mother. Perfect way to go, Laguna. Just wonderful.  
  
I yawned. Kiros hadn't popped up yet this morning. No doubt still with my secretary, since she, too, had called in sick. Yeah, well if those two are sick, I'd love to catch the disease.  
  
So, since they weren't there, I'd had to wake up early to read all this crap. For the private signing, we were allowed a bodyguard. Caraway and I weren't allowed weapons.  
  
Yeah . . . like I was going anywhere without a decent firearm.  
  
My old machine gun had coughed it about five years ago. I'd searched for ages trying to find one just like it, and in the process, had found a few other cool toys. Like my Uzi. I had two of them, but hey, if I ever had the need for two Uzis, I'd be dead already, cuz one Uzi is plenty for everything.  
  
I also had a boot knife. Not too good unless the baddies were practically on top of me, but it was a hell of a lot better than having to resort to a fist fight.  
  
I yawned again. Damn, I was tired!  
  
It was like that time when Kiros and Ward and I had gone to that bar, only our drinks were drugged or something, because Kiros fell flat on his face. Guess it didn't take as much for him, but Ward and I managed to stay up and kill all the bad guys before we fell over snoring.  
  
Yeah, and Ward snores really, super loud. . .  
  
Snoring. . .  
  
. . .  
  
I jerked forward. "WAHHH!"  
  
Ward looked down on me. The Deling airstation was out the window to my right. Hadn't we just left Esthar, though? I looked around. "Whoa, did I fall asleep?"  
  
He nodded. I twitched, and crossed my arms. "Man, you gotta TELL a guy these things!" I stretched a bit, and leaped to my feet. "Okay, let's go! When's this thing start, anyway?"  
  
I glanced at the stuff Ward was holding. "NOON?! Aww, man, I got up this friggin' early for nothing? That sucks. That is uncool."  
  
Ward grinned. I scowled at him. "Sure, big guy. Yak it up. See if you make the President of a global superpower cry."  
  
I shook my head, and grinned. "I'm going for a walk. Been a long time since we were Deling last, huh?"  
  
Ward frowned slightly. " . . . "  
  
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be back." I hauled on my favorite jacket. I love that jacket; partly because . . . okay, mostly because of the fact that Raine had fixed it for me.  
  
You know, I'd gotten dressed this morning, and I ended up wearing stuff like I used to wear. You know, brown pants, boots, my blue jacket. Weird. Creepy weird, almost.  
  
I laughed for no reason. "You should stay here, Ward. You'll get bored pretty quick, comin' with me."  
  
Vaguely, I knew I shouldn't go out, with all the baddies out to get me, But hey, I was just going to the bar and back. A little time to myself, as a civilian for the first time in . . . forever. Well, almost forever. You know.  
  
The streets were a bit more quiet. More civilians, yeah, but less soldiers. I guess since Galbadia wasn't officially in a state of war, it wouldn't do for martial law to be in effect. Either that, or Caraway was beginning to get Galbadia's ass together.  
  
That would be great, hey? About time they got someone who wasn't power hungry and idiotic. They had to get someone decent sooner or later, considering they'd had bad straws for the past century.  
  
I stepped into the hotel. It hadn't changed much. I loved it back in the old days. . . I walked down to the bar. Dang.  
  
Memories. Wow. Kiros and Ward and us fighting in the army. In fact, a few soldiers were there, in the corner.  
  
I reached into my pocket. My old dog tags; still there. Not because of any attachment to the military, just because. . . I'd always had them. Tokens, good luck charms? Maybe. But I still had them. I wondered whether or not I should actually get a drink this early.  
  
Why the hell not?  
  
I ordered half a bottle, and hoped I could hold it as well as I had eighteen years ago. Of course, Ward had always won the contests we'd had by a few bottles, but I'd beaten Kiros by a long shot.  
  
I took a decent drink. Not even fazed. Hah, take that.  
  
I stayed sober, but as my peace of mind slowly deteriorated, I found myself making that half a bottle last a very, very long time.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
There it is. Mostly angst, I'm afraid. But the hero and heroine haven't met up yet, what did you expect? If you'd like a spoiler . . . too bad. 'If My Heart Weren't Broken' may be my first posted fanfiction, but I'm not stupid. The next chapter, however . . .  
  
Things get interesting.  
  
If you're feeling good, don't worry. You'll get over it.  
  
Love is compared to war all the time. I can't count the phrases on my fingers; there are too many. Make love, not war. Love is like war--simple to begin, but the devil to get out. All's fair in love and war.  
  
"Farewell," says the dying man to his reflection in the mirror... "We shall not meet again." --Paul Valéry 


	3. beloved secrets

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Thank you, once more, for the reviews. I would finish this fic without them, but with them, I type faster. That was a subtle hint, by the way.  
  
I'm afraid to warn you, but I must. Quistis and Laguna meet in this chapter, but I refuse to force them together on the first meeting. I've seen too many good fics ruined by, upon character meeting, each character gushing on the positive attributes of the other. Honestly. When I see a guy, I notice the bad things as soon as possible. And because of it, I get disappointed a lot less. . .  
  
Alright, that sounds depressing. I'll do a LITTLE gushing. But nothing really noticeable.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
The car we took to the treaty signing was nondescript, a champagne color. Not as stereotypical as black, nor as blatant. And it hid the dirt.  
  
Caraway, I, and a second bodyguard inhabited the back seat. The second bodyguard was rather pointless, as I would be the only one who would join Caraway in the signing.  
  
He was new, I could tell. He wore his daggers in plain sight, and was trying to keep still. I found myself suppressing a dry chuckle. A slightly wry smile made it through, however, and the General noticed.  
  
"What's so funny?" An insanely childish question, but Rinoa's father managed to make it sound incredibly serious. A serious question which I really couldn't answer without hurting the other guy's feelings.  
  
Oh, Hyne. I was afraid I'd hurt the poor kid's feelings. Better to merely make it sound like advice.  
  
I turned to the kid. "Listen. Don't take this personally. But you are reeking of 'newbie.'"  
  
As expected, he bristled. He even reached for his weapons. How insulting. He thought he could actually beat me. I softened my tone sightly.  
  
"Calm down, it wasn't insult, it was fact. But unless you want to emit rookie waves to every experienced fighter around you, here's a hint."  
  
He leaned forward. Slightly, yes, but someone experienced wouldn't have budged. I couldn't help but bait him. "You listening? I'll not repeat myself."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Hmm? Was that impatience I detected?  
  
I crossed my legs. "Don't look dangerous."  
  
He looked at me incredulously "What?"  
  
I shook my head. "I told you I wouldn't repeat myself. Try not to look dangerous. Those who actually ARE dangerous don't advertise it."  
  
I did my best to look innocent. It probably wasn't a very successful attempt. "So pretend not to be dangerous, and people will think you are." I smiled, a bitter twisting of lips. I did my best teacher-to-naughty-student glare.  
  
His eyes widened. I almost laughed. Almost.  
  
The ride continued.  
  
Why had I done that? I was never bitter, or mean. Yet I had deliberately made that kid feel like something the cat had dragged in. And instead of feeling absolutely miserable, I feel. . .  
  
Powerful. Important. I may not be perfect. But I'm a hell of a lot closer to it than he is.  
  
But I'd made him feel bad.  
  
. . . But you'd made yourself feel good.  
  
I leaned back. I was turning into something bad. A Seifer Almasy. Was this how Seifer felt all the time? Was this why he beat up all those other people? So he could feel that rush, feel that thrill?  
  
Did he feel as insecure as I did?  
  
I shivered lightly, though it wasn't cold. I shouldn't become like that. No, I couldn't.  
  
Wouldn't.  
  
"Hey," I smiled more warmly at the guy. "I just realized how cruel that must have sounded."  
  
A small lie, yes. I had known it was cruel from the beginning. It hadn't even been that cruel. Couldn't even be cruel right . . .  
  
I shook my head with a reminiscent tone. "Don't worry. I had to practice in the mirror to get it right. To tell you the truth, the fighting is the easy part."  
  
He grinned back wanly. "Thanks."  
  
Caraway looked at me strangely, and I held a finger to my lips.  
  
Shh. My secret.  
  
I might be traveling down a dark path, but I'm going to keep my candle lit.  
  
We headed into the building, leaving the rookie with the car. I nodded at him as I headed inside.  
  
And therein I met him . . .  
  
I should have realized that he'd be there; I knew that the president of Esthar would be signing the treaty, and I knew the president of Esthar. I just hadn't put two and two together.  
  
A rolled up denim jacket. The loose tee shirt. Baggy brown pants. Combat boots.  
  
. . . He looked like he had in those flash backs Ellone had given us.  
  
He grinned cockily at me. His face was slightly more weathered, but it wasn't all that noticable. He'd stayed fit.  
  
I ran what information I knew of him through my head. Brown hair, hazel eyes, age 37. The most popular ruler of Esthar to date; up to the point that he had been re-elected five times now. Slightly awkward, and a leg that cramped when he was nervous. Rinoa's mother was his old flame, but he had settled with Raine in Winhill.  
  
A fighter with admirable skills in leadership and battle.  
  
Weapon of choice: Sub-Machine Gun.  
  
Name: Laguna Loire.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Hey, I was sober! Go me. A little on the unhappy side of the scale, sure, but at least I could honestly say: I'd been worse.  
  
I gotta admit, when we pulled up to this little lawyer's firm, I was kinda surprised.  
  
Ward had told me it was a private signing, but that usually just meant a smaller room with richer people. This time, I actually got to stay in my normal clothes. Good thing too, because man! Estharians dress funny. I ain't too fond of wearing those dresses.  
  
So I get into the room, look around the neat little office, and gave a low whistle. Treaties should be like this more often. A few waiters, a few politicians and witnesses, very businesslike, but everyone was in civilian clothing. I ticked off the pluses on my fingers. Casual dress. Good food.  
  
Hey, Caraway's bodyguard was pretty hot, too. Add beautiful women to the list. I didn't recognize her from previous times meeting the General; must be a SeeD. She turned her head towards me.  
  
I knew her! That one who was with Squall! During Time Compression! One of the touted heroes . . . what was her name . . .  
  
Oh, hey! I snapped my fingers. Quistis! Couldn't remember the last name for the life of me . . . being horrible with names . . . I was lucky to remember as much as I did. An annoying little voice nagged me, saying 'You idiot. You only remembered that much because she's been touted as a hero so much.'  
  
Nah. I remembered because she was Squall's friend.  
  
I ran their names through my head briefly. Zell, Irvine, Rinoa, Elsie. . . was it Elsie? I frowed, picturing a bouncy brunette. Selphie! Selphie, not Elsie. Whew.  
  
As I said, bad with names.  
  
I looked more objectively at the people around me. Caraway, trying to hide the fact that he had a pistol. Hey, I could deal with that; he wouldn't be trying to kill me with, he'd be aiming at the other guys. Beside, I was armed too; If some baddies walked in, I'd be bustin' a few caps. A few of politicians might be armed, I could see at least one who was.  
  
Ward had his anchor, which earned a few respecting looks, and that Quistis girl stood at attention with her whip dangling in a loop from her Hip. But methinks she wouldn't be the type to take assassination missions.  
  
So, I was reasonably okay, or as okay as one can get when in serious danger of getting blown up or decapitated or something else just as painful.  
  
Quistis was measuring me up in much the same way. Judging my ability, my fitness level, current arsenal . . . all while primly leveling her gaze at me over her glasses. I winked at her, and she raised an eyebrow. Jeez, what a stiff.  
  
Well, if you can't dazzle them with intelligence, baffle them with something else. Finding exactly HOW to baffle an experienced and elite-of- the-elite SeeD was the problem.  
  
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Well, looked like I had fifteen minutes to find out. I bounded up to her. "Hey! I know you!" I grinned, and held out my hand.  
  
She regarded it cautiously, and then glared at me; I felt like a kid again, like I hadn't done my homework or something. Ack, what'd I do? She leaned forward and said quietly, "You're armed, President Loire. That was against the agreement for meeting here."  
  
Ouch. Baracuda. I stepped back hastily, and shook my head. "Yeah, well, your General's ready for action, too, you know. Those kinds of agreements are meant to be broken."  
  
Her head snapped to Caraway. She inspected him coolly, and finally accepted my pro-offered hand. "It's nice to see you again, President Loire."  
  
Aha. So she hadn't noticed that, and since I did, I'm to be respected. I would've been a tad less generous in her place, but hey, whatever floats her boat.  
  
I scratched the back of my neck. "So, uh . . . You seem well, so how's everyone over where you are? Squall, Rinoa, Elsie . . ."  
  
"It's Selphie." Quistis shook her head curtly. "Well, President Loire, I think-"  
  
I held up my hands and chuckled a bit. "Hey, hey! What's with the 'President Loire' bit? You'd think after all that stuff we had to work together on. . . Call me Laguna, please. It's my name."  
  
She hesitated. I hoped she took the bait, or I'd have to tell her I'd forgotten her last name. "Very well . . . Laguna. I think it's safe to tell the public now, but Squall? Squall Leonhart?" She tilted her head, wordlessly asking if I remembered him.  
  
As if I could have forgotten. Raine's son. My son. I nodded as jovially as possible. "Yeah, what about him?"  
  
Quistis crossed her arms loosely. "Well, he and Rinoa finally got engaged. Quite the happy couple."  
  
Ah.  
  
I scratched my chin and tried not to look too stunned.  
  
My son was getting MARRIED. And-get this-to Julia Heartilly's daughter, hypocritically enough.  
  
I cracked a few jokes on who probably would get invited to the reception, i.e. Ifrit doing the barbeque and Shiva making those swan ice sculptures. Trying to, honestly, ignore the snakes that seemed to suddenly enjoy the taste of my abdominal cavity.  
  
From what I knew, Squall Leonhart had no idea of his parentage. And he seemed, to all extents, perfectly happy that way. Did I really want to tell him? He deserved to know, yeah, but. . .  
  
He'd hate me. I mean, he's my son, and I'm his dad. I don't hate him, and the way it's eating at me to know that he's indifferent toward me, I can't help but feel him hating me would make me go over.  
  
He's Raine's son. I loved Raine with all my heart, so why didn't I give her son what he deserved?  
  
I shook that thought. This was really eating at me bad. I mean, I've told Kiros and Ward, but can you really see either of those guys as a father? Besides, I don't think they totally listen to me. I mean, sure, if I had to listen to me all the time, I'd ignore me a bit too, but . . .  
  
I'm the PRESIDENT, for Hyne's sake! I can't just tell things to anyone. Scandals and stuff like that; I've had one or two, but really, letting the newsies find out I had a kid would be the biggest and hairiest of them all. Not that I'm ashamed of Squall, or anything . . . anyway, Kiros and Ward are all I got.  
  
My mind snapped back to the present, and I got the feeling my jokes must have been worse than usual, because Quistis was scarcely blinking. Seriously, her eyes were kind of glazed over.  
  
I shook my head, and waved my palm in front of her face lightly. Un-phased. I clicked my tongue. "Tch, come on, man, you seriously need to relax. Laugh things up." She gave me a blank, slightly condescending stare. Her mind was definitely elsewhere.  
  
Probably thinking something along the lines of 'What a moron.' I get that a lot. But hey, I can get my crap together when it counts. Quistis had her crap together whether it counted or not.  
  
"Ah, I see Ms. Trepe's serious nature hasn't gone unnoticed." Caraway stepped up to join the conversation. He still wore that long coat, which, with all the guys in jeans and polo shirts, made him stand out like a monkey in a barrel.  
  
Or was it fish?  
  
I perked up, however, at the revelation the General had given me. "Trepe! Now I remember! Your last name's Trepe! Quistis Trepe."  
  
She looked slightly bemused, the largest reaction I'd gotten from her the entire time. "Ah, I see. So, you insisted on a first name basis because you forgot my last name?"  
  
Well . . . um . . .  
  
Oops.  
  
Caught. I shifted my weight to my right leg since my left was cramping up again. Man, I thought I'd gotten rid of that habit! Or at least grown out of it. Hadn't happened in years. "Well, uh. . . Actually, yeah. Sorry about that."  
  
To my total surprise, she actually laughed. I'd like to say it stunned me, took my breath away, all that jazz. But as much as I like to exaggerate, this was NOT like bells and flowers. Frankly, it wasn't pretty. Her eyes, if anything, got colder, and the sound she made held no humor. I struggled against the urge not to force some REAL laughter in her somehow.  
  
Maybe she's ticklish.  
  
I glanced at the clock. The signing was starting late. "Hey, let's start this show!" I grinned.  
  
Not much to grin about, really. But man, with all these stiffs? Gotta get some good humor in there.  
  
I turned back to Quistis. What I saw made my hackles rise; or at least would have if I had hackles. I don't even know what hackles are. . .  
  
I narrowed my eyes. Her stance had changed remarkably. The glazed look had been replaced by utter focus, her feet slightly parted, her gloves hovering over her right side-her whip. She stared at something behind me, and trying not to look like I knew something, I put my hand near my Uzi.  
  
People play the game of politics in different ways, breaking most rules in the process. The trick to this is to make sure no one CATCHES you breaking the rules. So even though half the room was armed and dangerous, you'd know which one was the bad guy. In this case, I never found out, because a second later, someone yelled, "GET DOWN!"  
  
It might have been Quistis. It might have been me. But a word of advice to the wise: when someone with a weapon yells 'get down,' good guy or bad guy, you fall to the floor.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
My first cliffhanger. And-GASP!-a fight scene next chapter. For those who complained on Laguna's apparent airheaded-ness, notice how focused he is in battle. Many thanks, to my ( VERY ) few loyal readers. I'll do a few personalized responses later on, if I like you. As for the rest of you . . .  
  
Flame away, my biased little friends.  
  
Flame away.  
  
(And Lady Deathstryke, I was aware of 'White Rose'. It's a Laguna/Quistis/SEIFER. Yes, for all we know, it might end up being a Quiefer. I have, however, taken the precautions of asking Orlando Bloom's Girl's permission for the plug "first coupling", since this is the first fic truly dedicated to the two. If she doesn't reply, I'm assuming she doesn't mind. I hope I haven't offended you.)  
  
If anyone thinks I haven't addressed this situation properly, screw you.  
  
. . .Speaking of screwing, I'd like to know if a Lemon is in order. I don't enjoy writing them, but as they are sometimes necessary for a plot . . . I'm not doing a lemon until near the end of the fic, but ONLY, and I mean ONLY IF I know for sure that people want one. 


	4. fighting chance

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
A point to make: I hate politics. I 'm a republican; what can I say? I like blowing things up. . . and on that note. . .  
  
Well, the fight scene has arrived. I, for one, think that my introduction to the scene last chapter is my best bit of writing so far. I'm sorry, by the way, if this isn't 'up to snuff.' I'm an angst kind of gal, not a fighting, mushy kind.  
  
And just so I can do some pre-planning-to Lemon or not to Lemon? THAT, my friends, is the question. Feedback would be nice on this.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Not a moment later, I was shoved beneath a desk. I braced myself as I was slammed into the hickory wood; half a second later Laguna slammed down next to me; un-holstering his weapon, an Uzi.  
  
My whip was already out, but in such a position, it was no use. Magic.  
  
Laguna cursed as he loaded his gun.  
  
Three men in suits, using a bookcase for cover. Adrenaline pumped into my veins, endorphins, and half a dozen other chemicals. I'd learned that in Garden. I used them to my advantage.  
  
Time slows, in a fight. You learn that in the first fight you get into. It seems a blur afterwards, but when it counts, your mind can think about a million things at once. For me, as I mindlessly cast a Protect spell on Caraway, as I felt someone use Triple on me, it was memories.  
  
. . . The orphanage. . .  
  
A target had Caraway pinned behind an exceptionally large potted plant. Crouching low, Caraway was sniping shots with his pistol. I fished a Regen out of my arsenal and directed it at him.  
  
. . . My first weapon. . .  
  
"Quistis, I need healing!" The person behind me shouted. Was it Laguna? Yes, an ally. 'Curaga.'  
  
. . . Joining Garden. . .  
  
Bullets blew chips of the desk away. I ignored it as wood shavings slammed into my cheek. Caraway. I was here to guard Caraway. I flung an Ultima spell at the opponents, and triple wavered as the spell followed through twice more.  
  
. . . Becoming an instructor. . .  
  
Laguna swore; I glimpsed his arm frozen by a Blizzaga. I grabbed his wrist; 'Cura' was cast three times. He switched his gun to his other arm and continued firing.  
  
A shout of pain. Caraway was hit. My arsenal was getting depleted; 'Curaga.' I flung the spell at the General.  
  
Ward had been near the door; wisely, he'd gone for help. How the mute guard could communicate anything was beyond me.  
  
"Desparado!" Laguna leapt up and lobbed a grenade at the enemy. Weakened by the barrage of bullets and my spells, one the enemy fell. Laguna finished his limit break by peppering the enemy with more shells.  
  
. . . Time Compression . . .  
  
I fished in my spells. Aura! I had Aura?! I flung it upon myself.  
  
Blue Magic rose from my anger. "Degenerator!" I called, leaping to my feet and gesturing at one of the remaining men. He was sucked into a vortex of nothing as Laguna prepared another grenade. I flung myself back into cover.  
  
Caraway was hit. 'Curaga' was used on him three times. I narrowed my eyes, 'Esuna.' Caraway wasn't hurt; why was he slumped over?  
  
"D-desparado!" Laguna swung back up, and the grenade eliminated the last man. I pulled myself up.  
  
Victory.  
  
No time to celebrate.  
  
Caraway was hurt. I knelt by him. "Sir, where are you hit?"  
  
He grimaced. "The wound wasn't healed . . . fatal. . . I should have . . ."  
  
I blinked. Oh, god.  
  
He'd had a fatal wound. A fatal wound could be healed by Curaga, and such, but only under the direction and help of certain GF's. My GF was Shiva, and she knew nothing of healing.  
  
And if he were to die, and we were to use life, the wound would still be there. And he'd just die again.  
  
He'd. . .die.  
  
He grew limp, and collapsed. A pool of dark fluid was forming beneath him.  
  
"Damn it!" I checked his pulse. He was still alive by his labored breathing, but his heart was growing weaker.  
  
'Curaga'  
  
'Mega Potion'  
  
They weren't working.  
  
'Curaga'  
  
I hesitated. . . 'Life'  
  
He was dying.  
  
Laguna appeared next to me. "What's wrong?"  
  
I turned to him, frustrated. "Nothing works; he's fatally wounded. My GF is Shiva; in order to heal him, we need Quezacoatl or Siren here." My usual detached tone of voice must have betrayed a hint of agitation, because Laguna's face immediately looked worried.  
  
"Oh, man . . ." Laguna glanced at Caraway. "We gotta get him to professional help."  
  
I hauled the General's right arm over my shoulder, Laguna did the same with his left. I staggered up under his weight. "What," I paused to catch my breath slightly, "GF's do you have?"  
  
Laguna started leading us towards the door. "Diablos and Bahumut; we gotta get him to Esthar. We can-"  
  
"No. . ." Caraway shifted. I slowed my pace as he attempted to walk. Laguna shook his head.  
  
"General, please, Our technology and medicine is far better than anyone elses." He pleaded.  
  
Caraway wanted to go to Garden. Laguna wanted to get him to Esthar. Esthar was a potentially dangerous country; Garden was neutral ground. I turned to Laguna.  
  
"President Loire, the General is my client. If he wishes to go to Garden, I'm afraid that you cannot force him to Esthar."  
  
Laguna looked at me strangely. I didn't care. Adrenaline was still running in me.  
  
"Fine, but we take the Apocalypse." Laguna motioned to some guy. "It's a hell of a lot faster than anything else.  
  
What could I say? I trust Laguna Loire.  
  
And I didn't have to take the train.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Quistis Trepe was a professional. Didn't she ever break ANYTHING in the rulebook?  
  
She secured Caraway, and not-so-subtly placed her whip on her lap. Ready for anything? Most likely.  
  
Man, this was really, really bad. Caraway couldn't die on me; the blame would inevitably be pinned on Esthar. Didn't really make sense, but that was government. Esthar was finally trying to get involved with the world again; we couldn't have that ruined now.  
  
We might be able to save him in Esthar. The time threshold that allowed GF's to take action was long gone. He was gonna DIE if he didn't go to Esthar, and they knew it. But Caraway had wanted to go to Garden. Quistis had to agree with her client.  
  
No wonder, really. I mean, Quistis was used to Garden, and it was neutral ground. Nothing like home field advantage. Although why she was worried that I'd attack her or anything was beyond me.  
  
I mean, come on. I was thirty-something years old, and she was young and . . . er . . . youthful. In a fight, I wasn't too sure I'd come out on top.  
  
Why was I even thinking this? I programmed the auto-pilot to Balamb; or at least, punched a couple buttons that I HOPED were the auto-pilot. I messaged Ward that he should head back to Esthar, because I was going to Garden. I hung up, and it hit me.  
  
Seriously, I almost staggered, it hit me so hard. Like a bunch of fists pounding at me, when I already had a hangover.  
  
Garden. Oh, man.  
  
We were heading to Garden. Wasn't Squall in Garden?  
  
Yeah, yeah he was.  
  
Damn.  
  
I looked out the window. This trip wouldn't last very long, but I could already tell it would take forever.  
  
Yeah, yeah, I run this topic through almost everyday. Asking myself, 'Why don't you head there now? And tell him?' I never really, REALLY considered it, but then again, I was always to busy for a trip.  
  
And here I was, heading to Garden, with a perfectly valid reason. I could slip in a few hints here and there . . .  
  
No way. I couldn't do that. I mean, if he had to find out, I really don't think . . . well . .  
  
Stop fishing for excuses! I berated myself mentally. You know you have to tell him sometime. Sure, if he hates you, big deal. At least he'll know Raine is . . . was his mother. He'd have no reason at all to hate her. At least he couldn't hate her.  
  
It was really hard to hate someone who was dead.  
  
The sea beneath the Apocalypse spat off seaspray as we grazed the water. We were flying low.  
  
I'd loved Raine. She was beautiful, inside and out. She taken m in, no questions asked, and brought be back to health. Back to life, if you wanted to be poetic about it. Yeah, I'd loved her like nobody's business.  
  
Awkward, at first. We'd been really awkward. I was a fighter, used to doing things, getting things accomplished.  
  
The first week of life with Raine was. . . interesting. My ribs were broken, an arm and a leg busted, not to mention a concussion. I'd been unconscious for two days, and Raine had walked into the room she put me in- to find that I was gone. She'd run downstairs, worried, and found me in the bar making breakfast. She told me I had to stay in bed.  
  
The next morning . . . I made pancakes. I am really super good at making pancakes.  
  
Raine hadn't been too happy that I'd gotten up when she had told me not to. Didn't stop her from eating, but no one can resist my pancakes, so that didn't surprise me.  
  
The next morning I found that I had been tied to the bed with a belt. I could've gotton out of it, but I took the hint.  
  
Raine had done everything she could to make me well again, and . . .  
  
In the end, she was the one who had died, not I. Why death was so unfair was beyond me, I should have died, Raine should have lived. Not I.  
  
Man, that . . . was really, really bad.  
  
Apocalypse's engines began to slow. We were near Balamb Garden.  
  
"Help me, please." My head swiveled. Quistis was trying to get Caraway up. She'd asked for help? I'd thought that she was the proud type.  
  
Maybe that icy personality wasn't her just being snotty. Maybe it wasn't her being proud, better than everyone. Maybe it was a front, like my moron one.  
  
She glared at me pointedly. "Well?" She snapped.  
  
Or maybe . . . not.  
  
With Caraway's left arm leaning on my shoulder, and the right on Quistis's, we headed towards Garden.  
  
I prayed that I wouldn't take the idea of telling Squall his parentage into my head.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
A really short, bad chapter, but I'm afraid it was inevitable. To clear things up in the fight-  
  
·An Uzi is a small, lightweight machine gun created by the Israeli's. It is one of the smallest automatic weapons we have today, and can fire bullets at great speed.  
  
·A whip is a useful weapon, but with a large wooden desk in the way, it would have been useless.  
  
There you go.  
  
And it has been brought to my attention that I've forgotten the disclaimers. So here it is. Squaresoft is the sole owner of Final Fantasy VIII, not I. Now let's pretend this is tagged to all my chapters, because I refuse to say it again.  
  
Angelus Zion, thank you. You are the first person to ever add me to their Favorite Author list. I'll try to live up to the honor. 


	5. ordered suicide

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Oh, wow. I'm enthused; I got review by one of my favorite authors. I won't say who, though, I refuse to be a story plug, but they are on my fav stories list.  
  
. . . The muse has left me, on this chapter. I'm afraid it's even WORSE than the last one. Gah . . . I must warn you, minor character death . . .  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I sat in the infirmary. No one was watching me. It was safe to slump over, to let my back bend. Safe to abandon posture, safe to abandon everything. But I didn't.  
  
Squall was in the corner, arms crossed. He was wearing his gunblade. An unnecessary precaution, really, but anyone with a weapon feels more secure than anyone without one. It felt nice to know I wasn't the only one with a bit of a security blanket issue with my weapon.  
  
Zell paced. Back, and forth. Back, and forth. The desk, across the floor tiles, the wall . . . and back. And forth.  
  
Selphie was crying on the pitiful excuse for a couch, her head on Irvine's shoulder. Irvine held her shamelessly, letting her wear his hat. A small comfort, but she seemed not to mind as she sobbed into his collarbone. He murmured comforting noises into her ear.  
  
I was in a chair. Rigid. Calm. I wished it weren't just the shock setting in.  
  
I know, SeeDs don't suffer from shock. That state your body goes in after a battle, because it's confused and tired. But I'm not a normal SeeD . . . and shock goes away, once you use up the last of your adrenaline.  
  
I had failed once more, hadn't I? My mind numbly tried to wrap itself around the implications of this.  
  
Yes, why yes I had.  
  
Laguna was there too. I should mention him. He leaned against Doctor Kadowaki's desk, thinking.  
  
It was . . . sad. Not the actual Death part, Caraway wasn't dead quite yet. The truly sad part was, we weren't mourning Caraway. At least, I wasn't, if you could call what I was doing mourning.  
  
You could say the mourning was for Rinoa. But that wouldn't be quite right. It was more that . . . we were mourning for the fact that Rinoa had never actually had what the rest of us envied her the most.  
  
A father.  
  
Rinoa both had and hadn't had one. She had rejected it from choice. I, I who was rejected from birth, would give almost anything for that. Almost? What wouldn't I give? I'd give all I owned.  
  
That was just me . . . Selphie and Zell as well, most likely. Irvine . . . he'd be curious, but Squall?  
  
Squall . . .Squall could probably care less. I'd bet quite a bit that if Squall met his parents, he'd cut off their heads for deserting him. Either that, or he'd give them a stony expression, tell them in certain terms that he had no idea who the hell they were, and walk off stormily.  
  
Yes, Squall would certainly approach the situation . . . uniquely.  
  
Rinoa was inside the sickroom alone. But for her father, of course. I looked up. They had less than an hour, by Kadowaki's opinion, to make up their differences. It hadn't Been phrased that way, but it had been implied.  
  
Hyne. I looked down at my hands, folded neatly in my lap. I couldn't help but wonder what a maelstrom was doing in my stomach. Hyne. If she knew she had . . . if she had . . . if she were in Rinoa's place, what would she do?  
  
What would one SAY in a situation like that?  
  
Zell was still pacing.  
  
I straightened. I didn't realize it for a while, but I was talking. Slowly, and monotonously, and so quietly I couldn't hear myself. But I was talking. "I am Quistis Trepe. I do not slouch. I am the deity of rigidity. And I do not cry. I am Quistis Trepe. I do not slouch. I-"  
  
I think Squall might have heard me, he looked at me strangely. Or perhaps it was because I didn't look like I was mourning. Appearance was everything. But I didn't think faking a mourning scene was . . . right.  
  
"He's . . . dead."  
  
I looked up. Rinoa stood in the doorway. Her face was red and puffy, her hair slightly unkempt. She was still Rinoa, but . . . there was a look on her face, that after all we had all been through together, I had never seen before. Like . . . she had to live without something vital to her.  
  
I had never mourned anybody. Not really. How did it feel?  
  
Rinoa stood there for a good solid minute. And we let her. We didn't know what to do. Squall moved towards her, I don't know what he was planning to do, but the movement . . . it must have made her snap.  
  
At me.  
  
She came at me, all nails and openhanded slaps. All of her training and skill forgotten in her fury. I vaguely wondered whether I was capable of such passion that I forgot everything. Didn't reflect on that too long; I steeled my self for the attack, but made no move to defend myself.  
  
Whatever I got, I deserved. It was all my fault this pain was in Rinoa, my fault we were in this room at all. If I had done my mission right . . . If I hadn't screwed up . . .  
  
Zell grabbed the Rinoa by the arm as she passed. "C'mon . . . Rin . . ." He held back the struggling girl with effort. "Help me out here, guys." He muttered.  
  
Squall stepped forward and locked his arms around her waist, from behind. He stood fast as she lashed out at me.  
  
"You . . . you bitch . . ." She slumped forward, exhausted by her brief struggle. Her bangs fell over her face. Helpless. I would have preferred her to hysterically shriek and relentlessly bash me. But she wasn't; she was calm. She knew what she was saying.  
  
"Bitch . . ." she gasped, sobbed, and took in a wavering breath. "You . . . killed him . . . you might as well have shot him yourself . . . you might as well have . . . you might have actually killed him . . . you might have killed him . . . picked up the gun . . . bang bang he's dead . . ."  
  
No one tried to stop her. No one stopped her from continuing.  
  
Did they . . . believe her? Did they let her speak because they thought I was the one who had killed Caraway? Did they not stop her because they thought her words were true?  
  
She told me to rot in hell. That if I was too good to fight her, then was I too good to be her friend? She said I was cruel. She said I felt no remorse, did I?  
  
But . . . I did feel remorse . . . I do . . .  
  
She eventually collapsed into Squalls arms. I stood there, not sure if she'd go on. Not sure if I should wait and see.  
  
One by one, the others left. And I ended up standing there, alone, still waiting  
  
Rinoa was right. I had killed Caraway. Indirectly, of course, I hadn't been the one to shoot him . . . but I had killed him.  
  
With my incompetence. With my inability. With my . . . I . . .  
  
Did I deserve to live? I had always held that those who killed without purpose deserved to die. There was no purpose in the General's death. Did I deserve to die?  
  
. . . Did I deserve to live?  
  
I stood. Abandoned. No one was there. I wasn't harmed. I sat down on the ground. I curled up, into a ball. Look at yourself, Quistis Trepe. Look what you have become.  
  
I look. I see myself, perfectly whole and unharmed, crumpled in a heap. No wounds, no physical damage.  
  
Just discarded. Left behind.  
  
I didn't deserve to live, and that went hand and hand with deserving to die.  
  
I looked out the window. I would die tonight. I would make sure of it.  
  
I manage to come up with a startling irony . . . A tragic hero, am I . . . flawed, unwanted . . . heading to her death by her own hand.  
  
My own hand . . . my . . . suicide?  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Something was wrong with Quistis.  
  
Yeah, she had issues.  
  
No one could just stand there while someone poured out all their rage and anger onto them. She was calm, and showed . . . nothing. Harshness I might have expected, maybe something a bit louder, but . . . she had done nothing.  
  
She had stood there. Everyone had left the infirmary, but she had remained there, with a vague wave of farewell to each as they went. She was still standing there when I had left. I'd taken a look at her, and decided to wait for her outside the door.  
  
Someone might need to tell her that those words weren't meant.  
  
It was as if she had been . . . and still was . . . cataloging every thing Rinoa was saying. Wasn't a very good start with my son's fiancée.  
  
No one had stopped Rinoa, really. They knew she was just venting. Just venting her grief. I knew it. But I think I was the only one who could see that . . .  
  
. . . That this little fact had escaped Quistis. Quistis hadn't known. She was probably taking the words to heart.  
  
Yeah, my legs were getting tired. I yawned. How long would I have to wait? Was she just standing there still? I peeked in.  
  
She was gone.  
  
The window was open, letting in a slight drizzle. Nothing heavy, just a few drops.  
  
. . . why would she sneak out on a night like . . ?  
  
Oh.  
  
Shit.  
  
I swore a few times, telling myself to do a couple of anatomically impossible things involving a camel and a few choice organs. But hey, let's not get detailed.  
  
Quistis Trepe was going to kill herself.  
  
I might have left by the doors, but I really think I went out the window. Either way, after a bit, I was running in the rain. Who in their right mind would kill themselves?!  
  
In their right mind . . ?  
  
Quistis had issues. If anything, she was the most stable person I had ever met. Why the heck would she kill herself? Very uncool thing to do. You'd be dead, and everyone would be miserable.  
  
My thoughts on this this weren't too organized. Hey, I'm not a very organized guy. But I did agree with myself on the fact that if I was too late and she was dead or otherwise, I wouldn't . . . well, I didn't really think of consequences, I just knew it'd be bad. Death is a bad thing.  
  
I didn't stop and think that I might be wrong, that Quistis had just gone for a walk or something, and that I might be making an idiot of myself running around the fields after dark. I didn't stop, period. I was hopelessly slewing around in the rain hoping she'd fall into my path.  
  
Okay, so I was kinda hoping it'd storm. A big, dramatic one, instead of this puny drizzle; you know, the whole 'dark, stormy night' deal . . . well . . . not that it'd be night, because it was sunset. Kinda dark, stained glass red. Not that dark out, obviously.  
  
I probably have run faster than that in some point of my life, but I couldn't at the time remember one because my lungs were complaining really loud. I had spent about fifteen minutes running around in the fields north of Balamb with no sign of Quistis.  
  
Damn.  
  
Why the heck had she done this? Had she really believed Rinoa that much? Man, I had a serious feeling the Quistis had MAJOR issues.  
  
I'm not a believer in fortune, luck, or Hyne. I hadn't prayed in forever, but I guess I should put a bit more faith in all those deities, because the second I started praying to whoever would listen, I heard something.  
  
I stopped, and my ears strained. A distant peal of thunder cracked in the distance. Well, I had asked for dramatic . . .  
  
I had found her.  
  
She had slit both her writs with the edge of her whip' blade. Her arms were outstretched, her blood pouring away from her in a steady stream, washing away with the rain. On her back, her knees bent limply, she stared at the sky, blinking slightly against the rain.  
  
I'd feared the worst when I saw her, but her arms were still furiously pumping out blood.  
  
I didn't pause. I cast Curaga on her-twice-and the light sparked around her. She shifted as her wounds closed.  
  
They wouldn't leave a scar, not with the speed I'd healed them.  
  
I don't think it was possible for her not to notice that. She sat up- weakly, but hey, blood loss takes a while to heal, even with magic-and blinked blearily in my direction. "Who's there?" Her voice slurred slightly, and I could barely make it out in the increasing rainfall.  
  
I admit, I toyed with the idea of not saying anything and leaving, you know, playing mysterious savior and all. But then again, I thought she might just reinflict herself and die anyway.  
  
Ack. Well, if you can't dazzle them with brilliance . . . "What the hell are you doing?!" . . . baffle them with something else.  
  
"La . . . Laguna Loire?" She muttered her question softly. I really don't know why, but I was pissed. Not really at anything or one in particular, I was just . . . pissed. Yeah.  
  
I stomped over and tried to haul her to her feet. She tried to get up dazedly, but she ended up falling back limply. Oh, Hyne, she had really messed herself up.  
  
Damn. I picked her up and swore, if a bit more mildly in respect for Quistis. Oh, great.  
  
Sure. NOW the thunderstorm decides to roll in. Just when I really don't need theatrics. Of course, I really didn't need to be hauling a half - dead chick around either. Not to mention, I was on a VERY FLAT field-no, a thunderstorm wasn't the best thing after all.  
  
With Quistis being a deadweight, the pace I had to set made Garden an hour's trek away. I looked wildly through the rain. Shelter. We needed shelter. Weren't there caves northeast of here?  
  
"I . . . can walk . . ." Quistis feebly attempted to get me to drop her. I didn't even have to struggle, she was so weak. She had done this to herself, the proud and icy Quistis Trepe? Like I'd let her walk.  
  
"Sorry, Quistis, but if I put you down you might do something stupid, like lemming off that cliff, or shoot yourself, or something equally idiotic." Never mind that I'd done both of those at one point . . . but they were accidents! I was seriously drunk during that last one!  
  
I ignored her complaints. Yeah, there were caves to the north. Yeah, this cliff probably had one in it. I headed towards a promising spot.  
  
"Garden's . . . the . . . other way . . ." Quistis slurred.  
  
"Yeah. A long way the other way. We just need to get dry. Shelter through the storm." I was brilliant. Hail me and my really good plan.  
  
Well, seriously, it was a good plan. Until we got to the actual cave.  
  
I set Quistis down, and as I got up, I hit my head on the ceiling. And the cave decided to fall in over our heads.  
  
Rockslide. Ouch.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
If you had any hopes of Rinoa having a wonderful reunion with he daddy . . . well, I don't like Rinoa. I won't bash, but I really don't like Rinoa.  
  
Lemon wise, I've come to a conclusion. I will have a lemon . . . BUT . . . It'll be its own chapter, so you can skip right over it if you want. But, this won't come until MUCH, MUCH later. And I still don't know how to work Italics.  
  
Tell me how to use italics, and I shall respect you muchly. Very muchly.  
  
". . . Well aren't you a waste of two billion years of evolution." -Sayeesa (me) 


	6. strange trust

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I'm really thankful for all the great reviews. However, I seem to be getting more reviews marveling over the coupling then over the actual story or writing skill.  
  
Overview: Quistis has attempted suicide, and Laguna, being a heroic moron, decides to run through the storm to find her. He fixes her up, and they take shelter in a cave. Sound cliché? Well, the cliché ends when Laguna triggers a rockslide. Trapped.  
  
NO, nothing like THAT happens, you perverted little people!  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I was weakened, slightly dazed, and had a rock digging into my back. My arms felt like they were made of lead and wood. My head swam, and I felt light, even though it took all my strength just to lift my hand.  
  
My mind hazily sent images to my brain. Laguna Loire, president of Esthar. Saved my life. I tried to commit suicide. We were in a cave.  
  
I shook my head. So fuzzy.  
  
Laguna was cursing. Rocks? Rocks were blocking the way out? We were trapped. Ah.  
  
I forced my hazy mind to think. Think Quistis. . .  
  
Laguna began to heave at the rocks.  
  
". . .don't. . ." I heard myself say groggily. ". . .more rocks. . . another cave-in. . ." Yes, that's right. Shifting the rocks might cause another rockslide.  
  
I tried to get up. Must stand. . . to get out, we'll have to check the other end for an exit . . . won't we . . .  
  
Laguna looked at me, and shoved me back down. "No, don't get up."  
  
'Esuna' was cast on me. Some of the fog snapped out of my head. I blinked as a face came sharply into focus. A slightly worried, slightly angry, and very tired Laguna. I felt a twinge of regret: all his frustration right now was due to me.  
  
I cupped a hand over my forehead. "We'll have to see it there's an exit down the other end." I pointed deeper into the cave. He peered down in the receding darkness. I noticed there was light. "Where's the light coming from?"  
  
I hadn't meant to say that out loud, but I must have, because Laguna replied, "I kinda took your pack. It had a flashlight." Sure enough, my standard issue flashlight was sitting upright on the dirt floor.  
  
"We need to go as soon as possible," I remarked. "We don't want the others to send out an undue search party."  
  
Laguna gave me an incredulous look. "Undue? You have got to be kidding me." He shook his head. He took the flashlight and handed it to me. "Hold that." He knelt next to me, and waved his fingers in front of my face. "How many am I holding up?"  
  
"Three."  
  
He shook his head. "Well, you're in no condition to walk like that."  
  
"What was the correct answer?"  
  
"Two."  
  
He swung my arm over his shoulder and heaved me upward. Blood rushed from my head as I got up, and I found myself standing in a stunned position a moment later.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
"Yes, yes of course." I tried to take my arm off of his shoulder, but his hand was firmly around my wrist.  
  
"Nope. Sorry, you can't walk alone yet, even if you tried." Laguna's voice was annoyingly cheerful. I mumbled something very un-Quistis under my breath at him as we started down the stone passage.  
  
"Hold up the flashlight. It'll give ya something to concentrate on." Laguna shook his hair out of his face wearily.  
  
I nodded.  
  
We continued on. I wished for sleep desperately, but I knew that right now, sleep wasn't the best thing for me. Three things kept me walking- stubbornness, training, and Laguna Loire's incessant verbal interruptions into my thought, with dumb random comments such as 'Hey, it's a mushroom!' and 'What I wouldn't give for a cheeseburger.'  
  
"This is stupid." Laguna remarked. Yes, a perfect example of a dumb random comment.  
  
I shook my head. It was my fault, did he really think I didn't know how stupid it was? I shuffled along, rather pitifully. I suppose I did go a bit rough on him. "Look who's talking, Mr. Let's-all-head-to-the-dark-cave-for- cover."  
  
"Well, we're covered, aren't we?" Laguna quipped. He was laughing at a time like this? I had just attempted suicide, we were trapped in a cave with no way to communicate to the outside, and he was cracking corny jokes.  
  
"I didn't find that very funny," I replied flatly. Laguna shrugged.  
  
"Neither did I, but I'm working on it."  
  
Ah. Blissful silence. So tired. . .  
  
My brain began to fog up agin. I was getting giddy. I shook my head to clear it. "We've been walking for awhile now. We'll need to rest soon."  
  
Laguna must have noticed my condition. "Sure, let's stop now, my feet are killing me." Not surprising, considering he'd been half-carrying me most of the way.  
  
'Fira.' I cast it on a rotting vegetation to our right. Warmth.  
  
Laguna set me down, and looked uneasily at the fire I'd made. "Er . . . should we really start a fire? Those things eat up the air pretty fast."  
  
True. I forced my brain to think. "If there isn't a sufficient oxygen source close enough to feed the fire, then it's doubtful we'd survive the night anyway." Not exactly a cheerful thought, but I had no desire to be a little ray of sunshine.  
  
Laguna stared at me objectively. "Not that you'd care," he challenged lightly.  
  
I stifled a groan Great, now I was going to get grilled. By Laguna Loire. I shook my head, and tried to veer the conversation away from the uneasy subject of my attempt at my life. "On the contrary. If we died now, I'd get blamed for your death."  
  
Laguna saw through it. Well, he was a very good soldier at one point. He wasn't stupid . . . well, most of the time anyway.  
  
"Stop being logical. Why did you come out here? I can't think of anything you'd want to kill yourself for. . . that Rinoa girl was overeacting. . ."  
  
"It's not that." I said it a bit too quickly. He looked at me over the fire. It popped loudly.  
  
"Really."  
  
". . ." I cast my mind back and forth for a reply. ". . .not all of it, anyway."  
  
"What's all of it?" Laguna leaned forward and put all of his attention on me. I didn't really want his attention. What was I supposed to tell him?  
  
Should I regurgitate what he wanted to here? Should I lie? Should I burst into false tears?"  
  
. . . should I tell the truth? Should I tell him that . . . ". . .my heart . . . is broken . . "  
  
I'd said it outloud. Damn. Laguna looked at me, shocked. "You mean your killing yourself because of some guy-"  
  
"No!" I rubbed my temples. Dammit, having him think something as dumb as that was worse than telling the truth. 'Don't say anything, you're not yourself,' a little voice was telling me. I unwisely ignored it.  
  
Laguna was waiting for an explanation. I tried not to meet his eyes, then thought better of it, and looked him directly in the face.  
  
"No, it's nothing like that. My heart, it doesn't love. I want it to love. But it doesn't work."  
  
I watched his face changed from shock to something a bit worse-pity. . .No, not pity . . . sympathy? "What? How-"  
  
I knew what he was going to say. And I knew that none of it was true. None of it. I don't know what exactly happened after that, but something in me broke.  
  
I think my ice cracked a bit.  
  
"No, don't," I snapped. "Don't say anything." Laguna fell silent.  
  
I took a deep breath, and started. "I always have been, I am, and always will be mediocre. I am mediocre. I used to seek perfection, you know. I thought I was damn close, and I hadn't even known what I was seeking.  
  
"And then I got a reality check, and I realized: I am Quistis Trepe, and I am a mediocre person, who will never amount to much. I didn't deal with that too well. Then I saved the world, and I thought, maybe I'm not so mediocre. And then another thought struck me. Maybe that was it. That was all I was here to do. To do that one thing, and then all requirements are filled, and I was done.  
  
"Irvine has something to live for: Selphie. Squall has something to live for: Rinoa. Even Zell has that librarian . . . but, what about me? What do I have to live for?" I bitterly-and quite feebly-punched the cave's rock floor.  
  
"I never have and never will know love. Oh, I know, I love Irvine, Selphie, and the others, but that isn't what I mean. You know, I can't even recognize true love. Hell, I thought I was in love with Squall.  
  
"Inability to love alone, I think, is a perfectly good reason to commit suicide. To kill myself, to end it. And there is much, much more where that comes from." I was breathing heavily, and I think if I had gone on for any longer I would have fainted, I was so giddy. Laguna wasn't looking sympathetic anymore. He looked . . . calm. Shockingly calm.  
  
"So . . . do you feel better? Now that all that's out in the open?"  
  
What? What did he mean? I bean to give a scathing answer, but stopped. I . . .  
  
I did feel better. A lot better.  
  
I felt like a weight I didn't know I'd been carrying had been suddenly heaved out of my chest, and my stomach was untangled out of a knot that I hadn't been sure existed.  
  
"Yeah . . ." I breathed softly . . . and then noticed Laguna was smiling wryly. I straightened and continued. "I mean, yes. Yes, I do."  
  
"Good." Laguna's smile faded, and he stared into the fire tiredly. I wondered if he had a burden like mine, and whether he knew he was carrying it or not.  
  
I wondered if I cared. I think I did.  
  
A thought struck me. "Are you . . . see, right here . . ." I swallowed and started again. "Are you going to tell anybody? That I . . ."  
  
Laguna blinked, and shook his head. "It depends on whether or not you still want to kill your self."  
  
I shook my head. "No. I was ignorant of my mind." I wanted to live. I knew that; even if I didn't deserve life, I still wanted it.  
  
Laguna nodded. "Then I won't tell anyone. I swear."  
  
I leaned towards the fire. I had told Laguna I no longer wanted to commit suicide.  
  
Did I? I certainly hadn't planned on it yesterday, what if it just hit at me again, like I had tonight? And then, it hit full blast.  
  
I had tried to commit suicide. I had tried to kill myself. I should be dead right now. But I wasn't. But I still should be dead.  
  
By my hand. Not in battle, honorably, but the coward's way.  
  
Coward.  
  
"I'm a coward." I said it flatly. I let the world know exactly what I thought.  
  
Laguna looked at me, and his mouth twitched. "Hardly." He said it wryly, with a touch of humor.  
  
He leaned back. "Trust me on this one, 'K? I know cowards. You aren't one."  
  
I looked up. Mold grew in patches on the ceiling. I hoped it didn't fall on me. It looked disgusting.  
  
What would Laguna know of cowards? I suppose his being in the military . . . I could see him being confronted with cowardly soldiers. But, would it remain so fresh in his mind that it would be brought up so quickly?  
  
Laguna looked at me strangely. "I'll cut you a deal, Quistis," he said slowly.  
  
I narrowed my eyes slightly. "What kind of deal?"  
  
Laguna looked up. "I promised already never to tell anyone about this, but . . . in return, I want you to keep my secret."  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
What the hell was I doing? I was NOT about to tell her this. I shook my head.  
  
Man, was I stupid.  
  
I guess if she keeps the secret, then I'm good to go. If she doesn't, then . . . then it's better for Squall to find out from a friend, I guess. I mean, to him I'm practically a stranger.  
  
"It's a long story, if you want to listen," I heard myself saying. It seemed like my subconscious was fighting with my. . .you know. . .other conscious, the logical one.  
  
And my sub was this giant sumo guy, and my logic was this little small fry.  
  
I'd be rooting for the little guy, but my money was all for the sumo.  
  
Quistis looked at me solemnly, and nodded. "I'm listening."  
  
I looked back. It all started with Raine.  
  
"Were you one of the people who saw Raine? When Ellone sent Squall back?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well. . .Raine and I, we . . . got engaged. In the time between when Kiros appeared and when Ellone was taken . . .I gave her a ring." I looked down, and debated whether to take it out of my pocket, but I decided not to. I didn't really want to seem too pitiful.  
  
Kinda late for that, I am way past pitiful.  
  
Quistis was still listening. Probably getting bored, too.  
  
"I had to leave just days before the wedding was gonna take place. To find Ellone, I had too. And when I came back, Raine was dead."  
  
My voice began to close up, and I tried to surreptitiously clear my throat.  
  
"I heard. . ." Quistis said softy. I forced myself to meet her eyes. They were pitying. I didn't want pity. She tried to continue. "But how-"  
  
"I'm not done yet." I cut in sharpely. Man, I was screwing this up really really bad. For once, I had to force my mouth to keep going. "Not many know this. . .when Raine died. . .it was through childbirth."  
  
Aha. She reacts. Quistis's eyes went wide. "Oh. . .my, was the child. . ."  
  
I had to look away at this point. Argh, I really was pitiful. My damn leg was cramping up again. It twitched involuntarily.  
  
Second time in less then two days. The old habit was picking up again.  
  
"Yeah, he's mine." I sounded tired. I was.  
  
Quistis shook her head, as if to clear it. "Oh my."  
  
I don't really know why, but a flabbergasted Quistis was kinda funny. I laughed, even though it sounded harsh. "Let me finish. It gets better." Or worse, depending on your point of view.  
  
I leaned back, and dimly recounted my side of the story. Not that there was another side, mind you. "I left him. You hear me? I left my kid in a damn orphanage. . .Raine's kid. . .I knew I had a kid the whole time. I knew. And I claimed ignorance and left him. . .And now he's an adult, and. . ." I bit my tongue.  
  
No need to make an even bigger idiot of myself. I glanced over at Quistis. Her eyes didn't hold pity anymore. They held shock. I don't know what I was looking for, but shock wasn't what I wanted either.  
  
She tilted her head slightly, and leaned forward. "Laguna. . .the-"  
  
She was getting the picture. Better to get this over with. That in itself was wrong. . . a father should pronounce his son with pride, not damn cowardice.  
  
I interrupted her. "Do you know Raine's maiden name?" I snapped. Ouch, shouldn't do that to people, an inner voice muttered. It's mean.  
  
Quistis didn't look hurt by it. She looked confused. "No," she murmured, "I don't-"  
  
I cut her short. "Leonhart. Raine Elizabeth Leonhart."  
  
Her eyes went wider than before. I would have killed to know what she was thinking at that moment. "Leon. . .hart. . .oh, god, you mean. . ." She trailed off, staring at me. I wondered why. Maybe looking for a family resemblance.  
  
"Yeah." I said dully. "I'm Squall's father."  
  
Quistis narrowed her eyes slightly, and shook her head-and snapped back into Ice Queen mode. The change was startling. She suddenly seemed far older and taller than she had been a moment ago. Her eyes took on that glazed look for a moment before they focused on me again.  
  
"Squall doesn't know." She stated the obvious like it was a revelation. Dang, I wish I had that skill.  
  
I guess since she was snug in her Ice Queen act, I could slip back into my old moron mode. "Nope." I tried to bring some liveliness into my dead voice. I don't think I did too good with that. "And I can't bring myself to tell him. He seems happy enough now."  
  
Silence. I elaborated. "I mean, what am I gonna do, waltz up to him, and go, 'Hey there, Squall! Did you know that I've denied your existence for nineteen damn years? Why would I do that you ask? Oh, well, the fact that I'm your father might have something to do with it'?"  
  
Quistis didn't even blink. She was good. Oh, yeah, she was good. "I see your point."  
  
I looked into the fire. I was empty. Nothing left to say. Quistis was staring into the fire too.  
  
Quistis, How could she think her heart didn't work? I mean, anyone, everyone can love. Sure, it takes a little bit of searching, but it'd come eventually.  
  
No wonder she was depressed, going around thinking like that.  
  
Seriously, how stupid. Even I know better than that.  
  
"This is all a secret, right?" Quistis said suddenly. I looked up.  
  
"Yeah. But, if you ever get suicidal tendencies again, you hafta call me so I can try to talk you out of it."  
  
Quistis didn't exactly smile, but her face relaxed, like she was a bit more content then she'd been a moment before. "Fine."  
  
She looked down in the direction we'd been walking.  
  
"I'm not that tired anymore," she stated softly, "let's keep going."  
  
We did.  
  
We walked for quite some time.  
  
We got out of the cave and to Garden by dawn.  
  
We were kinda dirty, but okay.  
  
I wondered when I had started to think in the term 'we'.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Yes. A bonding chapter. Needed by plot, annoying by all other standards. Now's the hard part: I have to slowly turn everything from angst to fluff. I don't want a completely happy ending; I mean, real life never has a happy ending. But if the reviewers ask, I guess a happy ending wouldn't be too horrible.  
  
I'm surprised at the number of reviews. I've seen completed fics with less reviews than this. I'm not prone to actions done in asterisks. . . but . . . *reluctantly resorts to asterisks and hugs all reviewers*  
  
. . .Thanks, guys.  
  
I guess I'm doing this for more than pure fun, now. I hope I don't turn into a review crazed writer, who stalls a story's continuation because of the lack of reviews. Ack. Those bastards. 


	7. untold undone

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I think I have Laguna's characterization down pretty well. Laguna. Everyone loves the bastard.  
  
I apologize for the rushed ending last chapter. My parents were shoving me off the PC. I think that the review count has gone up once more, though. Thank you.  
  
Yes, that was the bonding chapter. Now, Quistis knows Squall's parentage. A bit of a shock, as you can imagine. Now, we didn't get to experience Quistis's actual thoughts on this matter in the last chapter. So this starts off after Laguna has left for Esthar already.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I turned a piece of white paper over in my fingers.  
  
Two days after my attempt on my life, I was back in my classroom, teaching. My old, familiar surroundings had begun to regenerate, along with the inevitable boredom. But it wasn't as boring as I found I'd been hoping.  
  
I turned a piece of white paper over in my fingers.  
  
It was all because of Laguna Loire.  
  
I felt like a petulant child trying to foot the blame onto someone else, but in a sense, it was true. It really was all Laguna Loire's fault. He was . . .  
  
Squall's father.  
  
Laguna was Squall's father.  
  
I don't see how I didn't realize it sooner. It was simply obvious. Look at them. They are so similar in appearance. . .I suppose that since their attitudes are so different, nobody made the connection.  
  
Laguna couldn't be lying. It just . . .made sense, now. Pieces of a puzzle click together far more rapidly when you know what the picture's supposed to be.  
  
I found myself wondering why Laguna had left Squall behind. His explaination hadn't been very thorough, nor was it under the best of circumstances. I chewed on that thought for about minute before deliberating:  
  
I didn't care.  
  
Squall wasn't an orphan. He had family. But if said family HAD taken him, than he would never have been to the orphanage, and we'd never have met. He should never have met us. Perhaps, he would have still known Ellone, since Laguna was like her uncle, but me, Irvine, Zell . . . we wouldn't be anything to Squall.  
  
Irvine had once said something to the effect of that though he might regret a past choice; he couldn't do anything about it. So he dealt with it, that since he had chosen that path, he must be destined to take it. I don't think Laguna had ever heard that.  
  
He was living with the burden of, in his eyes, abandoning his child. But was it really abandonment? Matron had been a wonderful person to be raised by. Could Laguna have been any better?  
  
He seemed to have done a good job with Ellone during the time that I'd seen. But, he was so . . . so . . . I pounded my head for a suitable adjective for Laguna Loire.  
  
A pencil dropped; the student apologized and picked it up. I turned my attention back to the slip of white paper.  
  
A small indescript piece of paper. Just a few pen marks on it. I fingered it listlessly as I watched over the classroom.  
  
Laguna was dealing with a big problem. Squall couldn't go his entire life thinking his father had died in some war when the aforementioned father had actually stopped it-and survived to become a major world power.  
  
Did Laguna really think the situation was hopeless? That Squall would just reject a family out of hand? Of course, I don't think it would be past Squall, but wasn't it worth a try? Wasn't giving your son a father something to be proud of?  
  
Did Laguna really think that he was helping Squall by keeping this from him?  
  
Because he wasn't helping him at all.  
  
An adjective finally came to mind. A word I would never have chosen if it weren't so perfectly suited for the part.  
  
Laguna was a moron.  
  
He hadn't seemed like one for quite awhile, but he truly was. That night, we had returned pretty late. And he had seen nothing wrong with that; I'd had to practically force the implications of that down his throat.  
  
We decided to do what any sane person in our situation would do: Lie.  
  
The story we came up with to cover the true events of the evening was simple, clean, and believable.  
  
He had done all the talking, fortunately. Laguna Loire was a decent liar. Supposedly, he had gone for a walk, and I went along to guard him. We sheltered in the cave, where there was a rockslide, and we made our way out. Simple.  
  
No one doubted a word. Most of it was actually true. There wasn't any reason to suspect anything else had happened, and even I began to half believe it.  
  
Until I remembered the unseen marks on my wrists.  
  
Until I saw Squall every damn morning.  
  
Laguna Loire had gone back to Esthar the following afternoon. I was still resting, so I hadn't been there long to see him off. He shook everyone's hand twice, but the one handshake he gave me was a bit different.  
  
He'd palmed me the white piece of paper.  
  
He'd palmed me his phone number, scribbled along with a note that scrawled, 'If you need to talk. -Loire'  
  
. . . 'If you need to talk'?  
  
I regretted telling him the truth of the matter. I should have lied, should have given another reason. I shouldn't have told him anything. It was probably the lack of blood flowing to my brain that night, but I had spilled everything. I had nothing left. Empty.  
  
Now he thought I was suicidal and manic depressed. I probably was.  
  
But that wasn't the issue.  
  
The problem was, I myself was powerless to tell Squall a thing. I had given my vow of secrecy, I wasn't about to break it. No, if Squall was going to find out, Laguna would have to dig himself from his little hole of misery.  
  
If he hadn't done that already, it looked like he needed help. Which meant I had work to do.  
  
So there was no time for self pity. I stared down at the white slip of paper. The numbers seemed to laugh at me, pointing nastily.  
  
I racked my brains for a solution.  
  
. . .  
  
Damn.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Life was sucking really really bad right now. I mean, my office had gone to the dogs. It was a den of suits and paper.  
  
Reporters and important people everywhere. Extra phones had been plugged into walls, which were ringing incessantly, and paperwork was everywhere, along with stranded manilla folders and people waving them at me.  
  
Time to get to work, Laguna.  
  
Damn Presidency. Gotta love it.  
  
Someone asked me a few questions, I answered curtly. Questions weren't going to fix anything in politics. I barked orders into phones, and looked over old papers and background checks. I had to get this mess cleared up.  
  
Argh. Caraway just had to die, didn't he?  
  
Kiros and Ward were everywhere at once, thank Hyne for those guys. Everything else was pandemonium. . .hey, I should use that word more often. Pandemonium.  
  
So . . . maybe I should explain why everything was so screwed? Yeah, well, Caraway's death was part of it. A major part of it. Remember those radicals out to kill me? Yeah, those.  
  
Caraway's vice-president was a member.  
  
Secretly, of course, but now that he was in charge, he'd decided to come out of the closet.  
  
I fed a few neato impromptu quotes to the supposedly 'undercover' reporters hovering around my desk, and a guy in the traditional Esthar garb (who was actually from Dollet, but I wasn't supposed to know that) asked what I would do.  
  
I replied to him very professionally that I hoped that this wouldn't ruin relations between Esthar and Galbadia. I replied to myself, yeah, right, and I'm queen of the friggin' moon.  
  
I always was good at BS-ing people. My old English teacher had also fallen prey to my natural skill. This guy was no different. Hah.  
  
It was late. I yawned, and wrapped up as many loose ends as I could. If I wanted to think properly, I'd need sleep. I filmed one last condolence to the government of Galbadia before handing the reins to Kiros-Ward had already done a lot for me lately-and heading to my suite.  
  
As usual, my room was a disaster. Eh.  
  
I fell backwards onto my bed. Man, what a day. This was sucking pretty bad.  
  
I rolled over onto my side and curled up slightly. I really was pretty tired. Couldn't be too surprised about that, I guess.  
  
I yawned, and didn't bother fighting it when my eyes began to shut. Mmmm. Sleep.  
  
BRRRRRING.  
  
Damn phone. Shut up.  
  
What if it was someone important? I didn't give out my personal room number to many people, and they'd know better than to call over some trivial little thing.  
  
Argh. Damn logic. I flopped my hand out in the general direction of the bedstand and grabbed the receiver.  
  
"'Ello?" I said kinda thickly. "Loire here."  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I think I caught you at a bad time. You sound exhausted, I'll call back tomorrow."  
  
Huh? A girl? Who was the last girl I'd given-"Oh, Quistis!" I sat up as fast as I could, which really wasn't that fast, but hey, don't get picky. "Nah, I was about to go to bed, but I'm OK."  
  
"If you're sure . . ." She sounded doubtful, but didn't make an excuse to hang up.  
  
"So what'd you want?" From her tone of voice, I was guessing it wasn't another Quistis Trepe: Suicide Crisis episode.  
  
She hesitated. Never a good sign. "Well, since you helped me a bit, I think I should help you in return."  
  
Ah. I guess that was reasonable. But really, she could've just said she wanted to help.  
  
I shielded the receiver from a yawn before continuing. "Strictly business as usual, hmm? No desire at all to help your fellow man?"  
  
Quistis cleared her throat over the line. If she were here, and not just talking through the phone, she probably would've done the whole looking-at- you-over-her-glasses bit.  
  
Gezz, I can take a hint. "Fine, fine, strictly business then. I'm gonna assume you have a plan of some sort already cooked up, and let me say this- if it involves me going within twenty feet of Squall, I'm not doing it," I explained flatly. No way.  
  
"Don't worry, you'll be halfway across the world from him."  
  
Now, I know its probably been said before, but Quistis is a friggin' genius. I should give her a medal. You know, I could probably do that.  
  
She laid out her plan in a tone textbook dry and yet urgent voice that made it seem like a military operation. I've used that voice before, or at least that's what Kiros told me once, but yeah, but not that often.  
  
Now, I know I'm a genius, but really, Quistis took the cake on this one. She took the whole entire cake, icing and all. And she even got to lick the cake-y bit off the candles. I tried my best not to grin insanely, but hey, it wasn't like anyone could see me.  
  
Her plan was flawless. Sure, there was the danger of complete and cold rejection by my only living flesh and blood, but at least I wouldn't be beaten to a bloody pulp.  
  
I punched the air enthusiastically. "Man, that's great! What do you-"  
  
"Tomorrow night. I'll meet you at the orphanage at eleven." Quistis' curt voice interrupted. Not what I was going to ask her, but okay.  
  
"P.M?" I shrugged.  
  
"Yes. I will see you then, Mr. Loire." Quistis replied, before I heard the line disconnect.  
  
Argh. 'Mr. Loire'? It sounded like an old guy who threw shoes at trespassing kids. I hung up, and decided-  
  
. . .  
  
. . .wait a sec. . .  
  
Tomorrow?  
  
I'm telling Squall tomorrow?  
  
Usually, I don't get too eloquent with my swearing, but hey, my delayed reactions aren't my fault.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
So they're meeting after dark now, hmm? Still angsty, but with amazing fluff potential. But I doubt that will happen. I'll save most the fluff for the other fic I've deliberated on. It won't hinder this fic any, I only do one at a time.  
  
I wasn't in a very angsty mood this chapter. I even thought up some humorous points: Ever notice that in the game, their weapons just disappear after battle? It's like, Laguna can fit a grenade launcher in his pants. Or maybe he's just happy to us. Who knows?  
  
. . . And remember. Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't. 


	8. restless comfort

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I'm back. Fear me. My Reffie is going along well, but I won't post any of it until I finish up with this fic. I won't have progress slowed on this.  
  
I think Quistis would worry a lot about her reputation and implications of this situation. And Laguna isn't exactly a ladies man. Since both are perfectly capable of putting two and two together, I think I'll have some fun with their wandering thoughts.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I slammed my hand upon the snooze button. I opened my eyes slightly, and the red numbers glared at me: 10:30. Time to go . . . already?  
  
I forced myself up faster than my back would normally allow. Two hours of sleep was hardly enough to function with, but I was afraid it would have to do. Running my fingers through my hair exasperatedly, I got up and dug through my closet for something to wear.  
  
Well, it was more of a buisiness venture. Not really, whispered a nasty little voice, but I hissed back that I preferred to think it was. Either way, that meant SeeD uniform.  
  
I put it on, and twisted up my hair up in my usual fashion. I looked at the result in the mirror. Perhaps a tad of make - up to cover the dark circles? There. Done.  
  
I kept looking at the reflection. The gold filrgree blended in perfectly with the varius medals and rewards I'd recieved over the past few months. For being a hero of Time Compression and such. I fingered one gently. Was that it? Was that all I would ever do? One big thing, and now my purpose is fulfilled? Whats left?  
  
Death?  
  
No . . . I'd tried that once. I didn't want to die. I'd been saved once, but I hadn't wanted to die. I was a coward . . . I thought back. When I'd been laying there bleeding, all I could think about was . . . when you die, there's supposed to be a light . . . where's the light? . . .  
  
And then Laguna had cast Curaga on me. Not the light I was looking for, but the light was really the thing that brought me back, not the healing or effects of the spell. I shook my head. No use brooding on it.  
  
I headed out the dormitories, and to the Garden entrance. The Ragnorak was there, of course. The Norse version of the world's end. I had thought it poetic when we were trying to stop just that.  
  
I stepped inside, slightly nervous. It wasn't that I didn't know how to fly it, but the night lent an eerie glow to the control room, and I was sure that I heard noises the ship didn't usually make. I dismissed those thoughts as childish, and hoped no one would thnk to check the Ragnorak this late. It came and went often on missions, so no one would really think its departure out of place. . . but I am sure taking the ship without permission was very much illegal.  
  
I eased the ship up, and pressed the auto pilot to Matrons House. Cid had long since moved there with Edea, and Ellone often stayed there.  
  
Ellone was there tonight, I knew. I had called ahead to make sure, and although she knew of our arrival tonight, I had thought it best to tell her not to tell Cid or Matron.  
  
I wondered why it was necessary for me to go with Laguna. He could do it perfectly well by himself.  
  
No, he'd get scared and blow the whole thing over. I knew that, but it didn't make me feel any better about the entire issue. I should be warm in bed, not meddling in a global superpower's affairs.  
  
The Ragnorak's slight AI had a horrible ego, and made a very show-off landing. I punched a few extra buttons and grabbed my Save the Queen for insurance--and assurance--before stepping outside. The Apocalypse was already there. I was surprised, I admit to you. Laguna hadn't struck me as the punctual type.  
  
He was waiting for me, looking horribly nervous. I didn't blame him, really. Think of the circumstances he was dealing with.  
  
"Hey," He muttered. "You're on time."  
  
"Of course I am," I stated with alacrity. It's a gift, what can I say?  
  
"Sure . . ." Laguna shifted.  
  
I looked up. It was night. I really hoped his density halted his brain from heading in the direction mine was going. Because my mind was getting desparate.  
  
Yes. The theoretical wheels and cogs were turning, along with them a conclusion came forth: Guess what? It's night, and I, a relatively attractive young woman, was meeting with a decent looking older man, under the cover of night. You might say that it was awkward. I did, that's very much for sure.  
  
Eek. My back straightened even more, and I shifted my face into a reasonably stiff-and most importantly, emotionless-mask. Oh, Hyne, I knew Laguna couldn't possible think of this like that.  
  
Could he?  
  
I beat back that thought with as much due brutality as possible. My heart might not work, but it seemed that the rest of the woman in me was working fine.  
  
Joy.  
  
I really don't like to hash things such as this, you know. But a small portion of me shouted implications and innuendos louder than I wanted it to. This left me few options: hope Laguna didn't think of the insinuations, and that if he recognized this, all of my actions must betray nothing but business.  
  
Business. Everything is merely a business arrangement. Concentrate on that.  
  
"Ellone is inside. Let's go." I turned and headed towards the orphanage. I don't know when it got awkward. Really, I don't. But it had, so I did my level best to act normal.  
  
Laguna knocked. I heard some scuffling from inside, and Ellone answered, her head peering around the door. Despite her older age, she retained a youthfulness in her tone and manner that I had to envy.  
  
I shook that feeling off. This was Ellone, I had no right to be jealous of Sis. I smiled at her; it had been awhile since we had last seen each other. "Sis."  
  
Laguna wasn't as restrained. He gave a her a fierce hug, and practically lifted her off the ground. "Hey, Elle! It's been a long time, huh? How's everything been? You OK?" Ellone looked as though she was struggling for breath a bit, so he let go and held her by the shoulders, stepping back so he could get a better look.  
  
"You'll wake up Cid and Edea, quiet down!" I hissed under my breath. Laguna ignored me.  
  
He winked at her. "Have you grown?" She grinned, and shook her head. "Uncle Laguna!"  
  
I sighed. We would get nowhere if we kept exchanging pleasantries. Luckily, Ellone broke up the happy reunion bit. "Um . . . Quisty said that you guys wanted to talk to me about something?"  
  
Laguna whistled for a second before scratching his head nervously. "Er, yeah . . . You know how Squall is . . . uh . . ."  
  
It had occurred to me that Laguna would have to tell Ellone that he was Squall's father, but the possibility that she might already know had not. "Sis, do you already know about . . ." I let the question hang.  
  
She smiled lightly. "Yes, Uncle Laguna is Squall's father. I think I knew before he did."  
  
Laguna muttered something, and I realized that what Ellone had said wasn't true.  
  
He had known, he'd told me.  
  
He'd merely chosen to deny it.  
  
I remained silent on the matter. So did Laguna. Ellone continued. "How did you find out?"  
  
I opened my mouth to speak, and glanced at Laguna. He was scratching his head again, and his leg was twitching. Nervous?  
  
I cleared my throat. What to say? 'Oh, Sis, well, it happened right after I tried to commit suicide . . .' No. My mouth was still open, and I was still searching for words.  
  
"Better not ask," Laguna cut in. "Trust me on this, OK?" I sent a slightly grateful glance in his direction before snapping to attention. We were here for a reason. Can't get too distracted.  
  
"Either way, the point of the matter is that I am here for emotional support," I said strictly. Well, in a sense perhaps.  
  
Crossing his arms, Laguna gave me an incredulous glance, and snorted. "No, you're here to make sure I don't chicken out the last minute. Emotional support isn't your strong suit, sorry."  
  
Oh, he was smarter than he looked. Or acted, for that matter. I suppose Laguna Loire proves that there's no accounting for intuition. You see, most of the things he said were true. Very true, in most respects. Not all, but most.  
  
"Perhaps, but it would normally be rude for me to phrase it as such," I replied in as dignified fashion as possible. Remember Quistis, he is merely a client, nothing else.  
  
Laguna grinned. "Hah! Not surprised." He turned to Ellone. "Anyway . . . I came to ask a favor. . . a really small one. Tiny. Microscopic, even." He pinched his fingers together to emphasize his point.  
  
Ellone nodded. "What?"  
  
Well, I should have known that at this point was where Laguna would have the most trouble. I stifled the urge to rub my temples and groan as he unsuccessfully tried to tell why he was here. I had already told Ellone why we were there, but Laguna had to ask for himself.  
  
"Er. . . well you see . . .Ellone, I kinda . . . And Squall . . . and you . . ." Laguna mumbled under his breath, leaning forward and scratching his head. It was really quite pitiful.  
  
"Do you want me to say it?" I queried slowly, folding my hands in front of me. Egging him on.  
  
He paused. Laguna looked at me, then shook his head. "Nah, Let me try again. . ." He took a deep breath, and braced himself.  
  
Oh I mean that quite literally, he braced himself. Legs slightly parted, left leg forward, head slightly bowed. His hair fell over his eye, and his fists were lightly clenched. Was it really that hard?  
  
"Ellone," He muttered lowly, but clearly, "could you send Squall a dream that shows I'm his father?"  
  
There. It was done. Now all I had to do was make sure he didn't try to take it back. I nodded slowly at Ellone. She looked shocked. I didn't fault her for that; if she had known Squall's parentage, she probably knew Laguna's reluctance to do anything about it.  
  
"Oh . . . Of course!" Ellone smiled happily. "It's about time you decided to do something about this. Laguna muttered something glumly.  
  
Although I had been the target of Ellone's magic more than once, I had never seen her execute it. I watched curiously as she rearranged the pillows on the futon.  
  
Ellone sat delicately on the couch. Lying down, she yawned. Giving us a hazy grin, she said quietly, ". . .I'll be up in an hour . . . it'll be done . . ."  
  
She yawned, and stilled.  
  
I looked at Laguna. He looked over at me.  
  
I sat on the nearest chair. Laguna sat, head bowed, on a side table.  
  
Laguna shifted. I looked at him. He was sitting so still, and I could practically see his muscles, he was so tense  
  
He was undeniably in pain. Not physical, perhaps, but severe pain. Somewhere in me, a chord struck. You can't imagine the pain seen in those taut lines. No one should have to suffer such pain alone.  
  
Should they?  
  
A voice retaliated brutally to this thought. But what about bearing your burdens alone? What happened to taking up the idea that you are your own pillar? Shouldn't the same apply to him?  
  
I, in very distinct mental tones, told that little voice to shut up.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
OK, what the hell?! Where the frig had that come from?! I sat in the same slouching way I used to and ran my fingers through my hair. Hyne, today was NOT my day. Taking a deep breath, I concetrated on the window. It was night.  
  
The moon was huge. A breeze tangled with the fields outside, and the marble columns outside stood like pale monoliths. The cool hazy light spread a blue glow over everything, and I sucked in my breath slightly.  
  
The last time it had been a night like this . . .  
  
Raine. How could I be thinking about those kinds of things, about another woman, when there was still Raine?  
  
I leaned back. No . . I can't think of her right now . . . it was sapping my strength enough as it was to not run into the next room and wake Ellone up. If I thought of Raine . . . I might end up doing just that.  
  
"Are you sure about this?"  
  
I jerked up. Quistis was eying me uneasily. I looked up, and fought narrowed my eyes at her. What?  
  
"Wha. . .What?" I let out a low, humorless laugh. I don't really know why I laughed, it wasn't funny. At all. I was pissed at everything, especially her.  
  
I fought the urge to punch the woman right in the face. "What do you think? No! I'm not! I-" I stopped myself there.  
  
No point in taking things out on her. She's trying to help.  
  
"I don't know if Squall wants a father," I muttered, finishing lamely. Quistis shifted, and stood. I stayed where I was, slumped over in my seat, elbows holding my weight on my knees.  
  
Quistis was . . . I looked up at her desperately. "Do you?" I blurted out. She was standing hesitantly, giving me a questioning look. I tried again. "Would you accept a family? If you ever had the chance?"  
  
She narrowed her eyes, not in suspicion, but in self doubt and concentration. "I . . ." She looked down at the floor. " . . .don't know."  
  
I watched her inspect the floorboards. I looked down again. ". . ."  
  
We were like that for awhile, covered in the blue-tinted silence of night. W were facing each other, staring at the floor, she straight and standing, I slumped and sitting. Man, we must've looked dumb. Complete opposites, kinda. But not really.  
  
"I wouldn't mind knowing . . ." I heard her clothes rustle as she straightened. I peered up through my hair at her. She was looking out the window, through the somewhat dingy glass. I waited for her to continue. The new silence was killing me.  
  
She took a breath and removed her glasses. Fingering the frames gently, she continued. "I wouldn't mind knowing who my parents were. I . . . would like to have known them . . . remembered them . . . I was told my parents had died because of the war, though. . .then again, so was Squall."  
  
Squall thought his parents were dead. Well, I wouldn't mind that status right about now. Man . . .  
  
I don't even know if I could stop this now. I don't know how far she's gotten in her dream, whether it's too late to stop this now. Dammit, I don't know if I want this or not. I don't know a damn thing right now.  
  
I jerked my head forward. Man, I was NOT about to cry in front of a girl. That was a big no-no in the book of unwritten rules. I was shaking slightly from the effort of holding back, and I scrunched my eyes shut.  
  
I'm not sure how she got there, but she was kneeling in front of me, trying to peer up at my face. I opened my eyes, and looked at her. She was . . . genuinely worried? Quistis Trepe, the almighty Ice Queen, was worried. Man, I must look seriously pitiful.  
  
"I regret forcing you into this, but . . ." Quistis hesitated. Forcing me into it? Nah, not really.  
  
"It had to be done," I interrupted. "I would have done it eventually. Better now, and get it over with," I surprised myself on how bitter my voice sounded. I was being a real bastard, wasn't I?  
  
She hesitated, as if what she were about to do went against everything. Slowly, almost tentatively, Quistis reached out with her hand and placed in on my shoulder.  
  
"I'm sure it'll turn out fine," she smiled hesitantly. Unsurely.  
  
Her tone of uncertainty didn't do much, but the fact that she had said it helped. A lot.  
  
She went back to her seat. We remained in silence until Ellone woke up. We said our farewells. And we each then headed to our respective homes.  
  
Squall now knew.  
  
Now Squall knew.  
  
Squall knew now.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
From reading the first Author's Note, you might say I was in a good mood when I started writing this a few days ago. Let me tell you something: This chapter was a bitch. I gave up on it twenty times before I decided that to hell with it, I'll post the best draft I got. Hence the lack of quality and major OOCness.  
  
You don't understand, people. This was by far the toughest chapter to write. I had to make sure both of them worried like hell over . . . er . . . things. Sexual tension. Mmm. It's never too early in a fic to have sexual tension.  
  
Warning: Next chapter I'm going to actually respond to reviews. Which means my favorite reviewers will know WHO THEY ARE. . . . I know where you live . . .  
  
Once more, a disclaimer. Final Fantasy isn't mine. And even if this disclaimer weren't here, I'd remind them of the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976. Can't touch this. Ooooooh. 


	9. truth received

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I can't figure out how to put an HTML coded page onto Geocities. Aren't I sad? Why can't every uploading system be as simple as FF.net's?  
  
It's late. I'm currently finding new ways to keep my mind running. Insomnia is a horrible, horrible thing.  
  
Yes, people. Squall KNOWS. He has found out the truth, and is it a good thing? How will he react? I really don't know yet. Let us see the fruits of my typist's thumb . . .  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I yawned, paying for my coffee with little glee. I do not enjoy coffee as much as some, and normally I wouldn't touch the stuff. However, today I needed a slight caffeine boost. I had been out all night, almost, and with a grand total of four hours of slep, my normal functioning wasn't at a hundred percent.  
  
I fought the urge to slump as I sat. Sleep would be nice. My eyes fought to close; I fought to keep them open. I scanned the table. Zell and Selphie were flirting horrendously, most likely another of Selphie's plots to get Irvine's attention. From what I could tell of Irvine's scowl, it was working quite well.  
  
I sighed as heavily as I could without attracting undue attention. I would mostly likely have to lie, wouldn't I? Lying, I'm afraid, is NOT my strong suit. Only pure luck has saved me from an undercover mission thus far.  
  
You ought to commend me for my amazing luck.  
  
. . .though I prefer not to rely on such a fickle thing as luck, of course.  
  
I haven't seen Squall yet. Very lucky. Neither has anyone else, otherwise, they'd be talking about how something was wrong. Extremely lucky.  
  
I blew the steam off the top of my mug, sipping the hot beverage delicately. However, it was only a matter of time before Squall turned up. I-  
  
"Um, Quistis?" a voice interrupted my inner debate. I swiveled. Rinoa was standing behind me, looking rather bashful. I turned full length towards her, keep my gaze level with hers.  
  
"Yes, Rinoa? What is it?" I sipped my latte once more, swishing it down to avoid burning my tongue. She twisted her foot into the ground uneasily.  
  
"Um. . ." She twisted her eyes away from mine. "I . . . just wanna apologize . . . you know, I got outta hand the other night, and . . . said some things I didn't mean . . ."  
  
I blinked once. Didn't mean?  
  
I had almost forgotten her outburst. Almost. My mind has, lately, been on . . . other things.  
  
I had a nagging feeling . . . that she was telling the truth. I stifled a snort. She didn't mean them now, standing there in front of me. Right now she regretted every word, and she regretted them so much that she felt obligated to apologize. I turned my cup around slowly in my hands.  
  
But at the time . . . when she said them . . . when she had backed every syllable with rage and hatred . . . if I had asked her then if she meant it . . . I know what she would have said.  
  
I gave a half smile. It was done already, and there was no use dwelling on the past, when the future still loomed ahead. "It . . . is forgotten. Apology accepted, Rinoa. Have a seat." I gestured with one hand to the chair next to me.  
  
She slid awkwardly into the table. " . . . Thanks, Quistis."  
  
Squall had definitely received Ellone's message. Even through my lack of sleep induced impaired concentration, I could tell Squall was not happy. From the moment he stepped into the cafeteria, everyone else could tell too. Usually, Squall walks with a certain heavy ease, a ponderous sort of movement. Not so today.  
  
Today he was all wire and sinew, with so much bridled . . . energy? Emotion? Frustration? Yes, so much bridled frustration that he almost seemed to forget to hit the ground.  
  
He was obviously brooding over something, and had gotten just as much sleep as I had--which didn't happen to be very much. He slumped into his usual chair without getting anything to eat.  
  
Zell, unwisely, broke into his thoughts. "Hey, Squall," he asked around his mouth of food, "Aren't ya gonna eat?"  
  
Squall glared at him. Zell looked almost regretful as he swallowed. "Heh heh . . . nevermind, man, I guess breakfast ain't that important of a meal anyway . . ." he took another bite cautiously. An edgy Squall was unsurprisingly dangerous to ones appetite.  
  
I should have known the others would notice something wrong. But they really hadn't figured into any of my plans, as much as I regret admitting it. I also should have figured that Rinoa wouldn't give up as easily as Squall.  
  
"Squall, is something wrong?" She leaned forward, biting her lip. Ah, yes . . . her irrepressible effervescence. As usual, Rinoa made a big mistake . . . in the best of intentions, of course. Squall swiveled in his seat and gave a stony glare.  
  
"Absolutely NOTHING is wrong. Everything is just . . . " Squall gave a bitter, short laugh, "PEACHY."  
  
I winced. Not the best reaction in the world. He laughed again, even more harshly. "Oh, I had a great nights sleep." He stood up, looking up through the cafeteria's glass ceiling.  
  
I glanced at his face and shifted uncomfortably. Being this close to a pissed Squall is NOT good for your health. I hoped my face didn't look as guilty as I felt.  
  
Squall didn't seem to notice at least. He tilted his head down, and his hair fell over his eyes as he audibly muttered. "Thank you, Ellone," he spat out angrily. "Why don't I thank Hyne more often for a wonderful Sis like her?" He looked back up. " . . . Fucking Hallelujah."  
  
Squall rarely cussed. That was Zell and Seifer's area. And for him to say such a word with any references to Ellone? The Sis he so doted upon?  
  
I resisted biting my lip. He was taking this horribly. The one thing worse that might have happened was Squall running rampant with Lionheart. . . that possibility wasn't seeming unlikely at the moment either.  
  
He glared at us all, and snapped up straight. "I have a phone call to make," he stated monotonously.  
  
I stared at his retreating back as Irvine motioned for us not to follow. Squall? Would he be alright? Rinoa tried to get up. I halted her with a gesture. "No," I said softly, still watching the retreating figure, "He's gotten a bit of a shock. Give him time to think things through, he won't act unless he feels it's justified."  
  
I turned back to the others. They were staring at me. Selphie was biting her lip, Zell was just shell shocked. Rinoa wasn't in any better condition, and Irvine had taken off his hat to rub his head.  
  
My statement had given away a bit more information then I had meant to. A, that I knew what was wrong, and B, that Squall might have to take action.  
  
I have said this before, but let me get something perfectly clear: I am a horrible liar. People mistake that fault for honesty, or nobility. For all my skill in decievment, I am terrible at any and all fibbing.  
  
I tried to look as if I didn't know any more than they did.  
  
Which, unfortunately, singled me out immediately. Selphie pouted suspiciously. "He-ey, Quisty? Do you know something?"  
  
Oh, damn. "No, oh no! Why would I know anything?" I blurted out automatically. "I know nothing! I mean, how could I know? Wouldn't you know?" I stopped my babbling abruptly, before cupping my fore head in my palm. Oh, my.  
  
Now that wasn't obvious or anything. Oh, no, of course not. Sarcasm. You see my point?  
  
Rinoa narrowed her eyes. "Quistis . . . we worry about him. Why are you keeping this a secret?"  
  
I sighed. Ok, since I can't lie . . . tell the truth.  
  
Just . . . not the whole truth, you see.  
  
"Listen," I rubbed my temple irritably. "I'm not supposed to know anything. It's an accident I do. I'd tell you if I could, honestly, but this is between Squall and-" I hesitated, and continued. "This is between two people, and I'm not one of them. I was merely a hand in the passing of information. As was Ellone. If Squall wishes to enlighten you, that's his choice."  
  
Irvine shook his head. "So . . . you can't just tell us and-"  
  
"It wouldn't just be Squall's confidence I'd be breaking!" I snapped. "Squall doesn't even know that I know! I'm supposed to be as clueless as the rest of you!" I shook my head, slamming an emphatic hand on the table. "So until he decides to stop playing the enraged victim, my hands are bound!"  
  
Zell snorted. "I can understand that . . . cuz he was ready to get Ides of March on some ass . . ." He pointed at me bluntly. "If he thought you knew something on whatever the hell he was talking about, that ass? It'd be yours."  
  
I sighed, and looked up. Not exactly my original reasoning, but it was extra incentive, I admit. I really couldn't tell them. They seemed to understand that at least.  
  
. . . only proved that I was a coward.  
  
"Everyone . . ." I stood, and gathered my belongings. "I . . ." What could I say?  
  
I looked at them in the eyes. Confusion, reluctance, envy . . . and the inevitable acceptance. I smiled. I couldn't say thank you, far too prosaic . . . but . . .  
  
"I have a class to teach."  
  
Oh, well, now you know for certain I'm a bitch. I shook my disgustedly at my cowardice. No, there was no time to waste. I have repairs to do.  
  
First off, Squall had said he had to make a phone call. Three possibilities there. He might have called Ellone for answers, unsurprising. He might have called Laguna for answers; in his confrontational mood, that wasn't dubious.  
  
. . .He might have called the missile base, and ordered a nuclear strike versus Esthar. Not an unreasonable option, either.  
  
I shook my head. Things were not looking up. I headed to my classroom.  
  
My class, I think, has a collective intuition. Somehow, whenever my emotions are at a peak, or I'm especially tense, they know exactly when to get impossible to handle. Irvine once told me that my mood was directly proportionate to the amount of detentions I had given that day. I think I broke a record today; half my class was in the office.  
  
The other half was being surprisingly attentive.  
  
I eyed the phone. Perhaps I should call . . . Laguna?  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I wondered how Squall was taking the news. He probably wanted to kill me.  
  
Argh.  
  
The new president of Galbadia, Koryu Deling, is NOT making things easy on me. Reforms and laws and crap are flying every which way.  
  
The proverbial shit has really hit the fan, folks, and let me tell ya, it's messier than it sounds.  
  
For one thing, he's totally rewritten that treaty. The one that I was supposed to sign with Caraway before he croaked? Yeah, that one. This was NOT the treaty I agreed to sign. It had all thisnew stuff on trade and technology. Phtt.  
  
Yeah, like I was ready to give away Esthar's technology to anybody.  
  
I look over it, Kiros peeking over my shoulder. "There is no way I'm signing this!" I slammed down the paper digustedly. "No friggin' way."  
  
If I signed it, Esthar'd get the short end of the stick, to say the least; we'd practically be agreeing to a self-embargo. He looked at me strangely.  
  
"You've been diligent," he observed. I looked at him. Uh . . . yeah, I'm the president. Kinda hafta be, you know.  
  
He shook his head. "What's with the circles under your eyes? You went to bed early, and slept in a bit, too." He peered at my face darkly.  
  
Eh heh heh . . . "Well, uh . . . I couldn't sleep . . . I ended up getting about . . ." I counted in my head. " . . . four hours worth." Which was true, really, I just hadn't told him WHY I hadn't been able to sleep.  
  
Ward leaned forward. " . . . " Whatever the heck he said, Kiros agreed.  
  
"Yeah, man, you're hiding something." He poked me in the chest.  
  
I gulped. Damn. I'm a good liar, but hey, these guys know me. Can't really fool people that you've been with for most your life. Eh, gotta try, though.  
  
I pasted my best 'I'm a moron' grin on. "I-"  
  
"And don't try to fool us, man. It ain't happening," Kiros shoved his face into mine. "What's up with you lately?"  
  
" . . . " Ward agreed.  
  
I wondered how Squall was taking the news. He probably wanted to kill me.  
  
Ah, well. It wasn't gonna be a secret for long, anyway.  
  
No use for it . . . I choked up. Everything.  
  
Except for Quistis.  
  
I figured she wouldn't want her involvement known, but if she did want some credit, then hey, she could have it. Wasn't like the so-called 'credit' was important or anything. So, Kiros and Ward wouldn't know of Quistis in this round.  
  
Ward gave a low whistle. Kiros shook his head. "Man . . . where'd you get those guts from all of a sudden?"  
  
I grin cheesily, but not before-unsuccessfully-stifling a yawn.  
  
Kiros narrowed his eyes. "Go back to bed, Laguna." He shoved me in the general direction of the door.  
  
Huh?! "Kiros, what the hell . . .? You usually BEG me to stick around the office." And sign stuff. And push papers. And things.  
  
"You need time to think about things, Laguna."  
  
I thought on that . . . no, not really. I don't like thinking. It gets depressing, cuz it always ends up being about Raine . . . or Squall . . . damn.  
  
I wondered how Squall was taking the news. He probably wanted to kill me.  
  
"Eh heh heh . . ." I pointed at a couple other pieces of paper on the desk.  
  
"Er . . . I have work?"  
  
Kiros wasn't happy.  
  
Needless to say, I was back in my room ten minutes later for some unneeded R&R. Yeah, I was tired, but how the heck do you expect me to sleep at a time like this?  
  
Argh.  
  
Yeah . . . I looked around. I was alone, with nothing to do but brood on my own crappiness. What a wonderful world.  
  
I wondered how Squall was taking the news. He probably wanted to kill me. I shook my head lightly. That's like . . . the fifth time I've thought that today? Fourth? Fifth?  
  
Whatever. The thing was, I have no idea on how Squall's mind might work. Kinda boring in my opinion; he's too . . . closed. Don't know why, but he's almost jaded.  
  
I threw myself on my bed. Urk. I felt like Sleipner had decided to trample me in the few hours of sleep I'd had. I forced my muscles to relax, not succeeding very we-  
  
**RING**  
  
I jumped up. What? Oh. Phone.  
  
Was it Quistis with news? I perked up at that thought. He-ey! This was good.  
  
I bounded across my bed, wresting pillows out of my way to get to the phone. "Hello?" I spoke a bit breathlessly.  
  
"Laguna Loire?" a semi-familiar voice toned from the receiver. I grinned.  
  
"Quistis! Are ya okay?" Stupid question.  
  
"Yes, yes of course. How are you?" I could hear her bemusement over the phone. Stupid question in return. Damn formalities.  
  
"Hey, I'm fine." I whistled a few notes. "You calling to . . . say something? What?"  
  
"Well, you certainly cut to the chase. Merely to update you . . ." Her voice faltered, and she trailed off slowly. Gee, how heartening.  
  
"Ah . . . You don't sound too happy . . ." Yeah, that was an understatement on my part.  
  
Her voice grew a hard edge. Bad news, definitely. "Well, I hate to say . . . but Squall isn't taking the news too well." I winced. Just what I'd expected.  
  
"Oh . . ." Yeah, clever repartee, isn't it?  
  
"He's just been . . . glowering about.," Quistis went on. I forced my ears to perk. "With the occasional curse word, which usually don't come easily to Squall. He knows Ellone sent the dream . . ." Her tone turned thoughtful for a second. "I wonder what he saw . . ."  
  
I don't. I shook that thought away. "Argh . . ."  
  
Gotta love oversensitive woman; Quistis took my aggravated noise as frustration over my situation. In part it was, now that I thought about, but hey . . . she spoke. "Mr. Loire, give him time. He won't stay like this for long. After all, it might be worse"  
  
"Really. I doubt it. . ." I winced at what she had called me. "And it's LAGUNA. Not 'Mr. Loire.' Makes me sound old."  
  
Silence from the other end. Gee, what a vote of confidence. "Okay, okay, I'm old, I get the picture! Sheez. . ." A thought struck me. "Hey, what, in your opinion, would qualify as 'worse'?"  
  
"Well, he could be calling a missile strike," she stated calmly. "That is in his power."  
  
I hit myself on the head. Yeah, he was the commander of Garden, after all . . . "Gee, thanks for the comforting thought," I muttered into the mouthpiece, not caring that my voice was dripping with sarcasm.  
  
"I apologize . . ." Quistis's voice floated morosely from the phone.  
  
I shook my head, a gesture unseen. "Nah, don't. I was expecting him to take the news badly. . . to say the least . . ." Yeah, I'd expected him to be at my throat by now. I surprised myself with a humorless grin. "Oh . . . man, what a disaster . . ."  
  
Quistis added her own bit. "You're not alone in this 'what a disaster' feeling. The others have figured out that I know something-" I choked, but let her continue "-I've told them that I can't say anything, but . . ." She hesitated, something Quistis rarely, in my experience, does. " . . . they worry."  
  
I squinted out my window. This was not good. "I can see that . . ." I answered slowly, my mind already coming up with possible solutions.  
  
Quistis took a breath. "Don't worry, he'll come around," she tried to assure me. I could tell that comfort was not her forte, but at least she was trying. I nodded twice before remembering that this was a phone conversation, and I answered hastily "I hope so."  
  
I heard a rustle on her end of the line. "Well, Mr. Loire . . ."  
  
"Laguna," I corrected.  
  
"Very well, fine then." She sounded faintly harassed. "LAGUNA." She stressed the syllables impatiently, making me feel kinda guilty for giving her trouble . . . she had done me a huge favor, after all . . .  
  
She continued obliviously. "I have to-"  
  
**click**  
  
I blinked. Huh? "Quistis? You there?"  
  
Nope.  
  
The line was dead.  
  
Dead line? Maybe she accidentally pulled a cord too hard?  
  
. . . Doubtful.  
  
I shook my head. Damn.  
  
If she didn't call back in the next ten minutes, I'd search for her number and call her.  
  
. . . Why the heck would the line just suddenly cut off like that?  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
What's this? Did Quistis hang up on Laguna? Well. It seems that the plot is traveling nicely.  
  
I just had a load of hot chocolate . . . only instead of making it with milk, I made it with COFFEE (it tastes like cappuccino.) I am currently on an intense sugar and caffeine high. Angsty AN? Not this time, folks . . . . Flee, feeble hot chocolate . . . cower before my wrathful thirst for thy sweet pleasure, before I devour thee . . . okay, that sounded vaguely dirty . . .  
  
Just a note . . . when I typed in Seifer, the spell check wanted me to correct it with the word 'sexier.' Oh, my word processor, how little you do know . . .  
  
Review replies. These six individuals either caught my attention, or have been there since the start.  
  
Angelus-Zion - The very first person to put me on fav authors. This story is turning out more successful then I thought, so hopefully, I can only get better.  
  
Sorceress Fujin - Enthusiastic, aren't we? THANKS THANKS THANKS.  
  
Ry, Maloire - My constructive criticism right here, folks. Thank you.  
  
Pretty Green Eyes - One of my most constant reviewers, whom I personally thank for upping the review count (It's pretty high for the current chapter length, but the reviews for each chapter are sinking . . .).  
  
Lunatic Pandora1 - Another constant reviewer. Got to love that 'let the bodies hit the FLOO' remark. Heartening, thank you.  
  
And one of the reviewers mentioned they had the REAL first Laguna Quistis. Well, considering it was started about a year ago and hasn't gotten past the second chapter . . . or even introduced Laguna . . . forgive me for not counting you. But I hope you don't mind me keeping the title of first.  
  
. . . I haven't used an exclamation point once in this AN . . . my longest AN yet . . . 


	10. new converse

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
HOLY CRAP Sorceress Fujin . . . that was a fast review. You must have reviewed barely a second after I posted. Nice to know I have fans.  
  
I reloaded the first chapter after fixing it up. My style seems to have changed drastically.  
  
Reviews make me happy. Happy makes me write. Why, I've just checked out my reviewers profiles. I seem to be on quite a few fav stories lists. This makes me happy as well. I also seem to now have an ego the size of Kansas. . . I'll get over it.  
  
An extremely mild cliffhanger . . . I'll bet half of you figured it out . . . Quistis's POV in this; starts a few seconds before the end of the last chapter.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I looked down from my empty classroom. I had work to do; I was scheduled for a few more things today. "Well, Mr. Loire-" I started in an 'I have to go' tone.  
  
"Laguna," He corrected. I could practically hear Laguna's grin over the line.  
  
I sighed exasperatedly. I don't enjoy getting too familiar with people . . . especially one who knew so many secrets of mine.  
  
"Very well," I snapped, "LAGUNA." I winced at my harshness. So I was bit stressed from recent events; I shouldn't take it out on Laguna. Even if he was the cause of most of my current problems, I wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for him.  
  
I owed him a lot, didn't I?  
  
I softened my tone. "I have to-"  
  
A harsh pull on the phone line wrenched the phone from my loose grasp, yanking the cord from the wall. Reflex took over, and my arm attempted to fling up to protect my face-attempted being the key word.  
  
A firm hand was wrapped around my wrist. I twisted, but the person didn't relent. I looked up at the face.  
  
Squall.  
  
Squall had heard who I was talking to.  
  
Oh . . . my.  
  
I seem to remember Zell saying something about Squall getting Ides of March on someone's ass. I really didn't appreciate the butchery of Shakespeare's imagery at the time, but now I could see what he meant.  
  
His eyes were narrowed, his mouth set in a thin line. It was a very passive face . . . but on Squall, it looked like a death threat.  
  
I cleared my throat. "Hello, Squall," I said crisply, as if he hadn't venerably destroyed my phone just moments before.  
  
His eyes narrowed further, and he made a choked sound before letting me go with a jerk. I resisted massaging my wrist, before straightening and looking him in the eye.  
  
He stepped away from me. "DAMMIT, Quistis!"  
  
I flinched from his tone. I haven't heard him use it before . . . except on Seifer. Because Seifer had betrayed us. Squall, did he think I had betrayed him? He clenched his fist. "You knew?!"  
  
I opened my mouth. Oh, Hyne. What to say? Do I lie? Squall might know that I'm lying . . . he WILL know that I'm lying . . . Do I tell the truth? Do I risk my friendship with Squall?  
  
Was this even my decision to make? Didn't Laguna have some say in this? Wasn't this all for Laguna and Squall in the first place? I swallowed, and said as clearly as possible-  
  
"Yes."  
  
"When? How?" He demanded.  
  
"Not long. A few days ago." I shut my eyes composedly before staring him in the face again.  
  
"When he was here . . ." he muttered . . . I didn't have to ask who 'he' was. He snapped up, and queried in a clipped voice, "He told you in person?"  
  
"Yes." I answered.  
  
"I . . ." He shut his eyes, and opened them. "So he told you in person, and not me?! Oh, yeah! I should've know! He's ignored me for nineteen damn years already, why stop now?!" He punched the wall irritably.  
  
What? Is that what he thought? I shook my head.  
  
"Squall, He's the one who told Ellone-h"  
  
"Couldn't he have told me face to face?" He raged obliviously.  
  
"He knew you'd act like this!" My slight emphasis grew to a full shout by the end of my sentence. "Angry, denying, and in my eyes, pretty damn pitiful!"  
  
"What?" He looked at me, slightly shocked. I wondered vaguely why I was cursing; I never curse.  
  
"Squall, look at me. You, me, hell, even RINOA missed out on having a real family. So now that you've got a chance at one, you're going to throw away the one thing the rest of us would kill for?"  
  
"We've killed for less." Squall intoned coldly  
  
"Squall, listen to me!" I raised my voice again. I don't shout often, or curse, but . . . for some reason, I was doing so.  
  
Squall noticed. He put his face into his glove, obviously concentrating hard. "Dammit, Quistis, you don't get it . . ." he muttered  
  
I laughed harshly. "Oh I get it! I get that-"  
  
"Shut up." Squall commanded. It's hard to refuse one of Squall's commands. " . . . I'm trying to think! How . . . why the hell did he tell YOU? Why not Irvine? Or Selphie? Or . . ." his eyes widened. " . . . or are they in on it too?"  
  
I winced. No, they had nothing to do with it! They don't even know! "Just . . . just me, Squall. Don't get angry at them."  
  
He sighed, and leaned against the wall . . . and narrowed his gaze at me. "So why?"  
  
I felt my face warming up. "I can't say."  
  
"Quistis . . ." He slumped over, and the sheer helplessness of his position- this position that I had put him into-tore at me. "Damn," he muttered. "Just . . . damn."  
  
"Squall-" I tried to touch him on the shoulder, to do something, anything . . .  
  
"No!" He wrenched away violently. "No. DON'T try to shove your views on me, not when you can't see the whole picture! Quistis." He grabbed my wrist again. "I. Want. Details. How the hell did you FIND OUT?!"  
  
"What's goin' on?"  
  
My head swiveled. Oh, Hyne. Zell. Along with Selphie, Irvine, and Rinoa. Rinoa looked overly stunned, and it was only then that I noticed the state of the room. Squall's outburst hadn't helped the class's décor any.  
  
Irvine slung his Exeter from his shoulder, standing at his full-and considerable-height, and said slowly, "Find out what?"  
  
It clicked in my head. They'd been looking for me, to question me some more. They'd come prepared for a serious grilling session. Unfortunately, Squall had reached me first.  
  
Squall cursed under his breath. I kept my attention firmly on a spot on the wall. A very uninteresting spot, but better than any of the other subjects in the room. Selphie was hopping from foot to foot nervously, and Rinoa looked as though she wanted to cry. Zell was merely confused, but Irvine, who seemed to have a firm enough grasp on the situation, looked eerily calm.  
  
I took advantage of the calm and attempted to clear up my desk. Plugging my phone back in, and picking up some papers, I realized how eerily calm I was being, as well. If I had any sense at all, I'd be scared stiff of Squall right now.  
  
Just shows how sensible I really am, I suppose. I picked up the phone to replace it on my desk.  
  
I looked up, to see everyone was still staring at me, waiting for an answer. "Quistis . . ." Irvine started-  
  
*RING*  
  
The phone in my hands jumped. I flinched. Squall stepped away from it quickly, as if it would contaminate him. "Don't answer it," he barked rapidly.  
  
I narrowed my eyes. I knew for certain it was Laguna, checking up on why the line had been cut. "Oh no," I said slowly. "I wouldn't dream of it. YOU are going to answer it."  
  
Squall stiffened, and stood to his full height. "NO."  
  
Selphie hopped nervously forward. "Who is it? Squall, is that someone to be afraid of?"  
  
*RING*  
  
"NO!" Squall sliced the air vehemently with his hand, looked extremely agitated. "But I'm NOT answering the damn phone!"  
  
I looked at him incredulously. "And here I thought the day I saw a cowardice Squall was the day I died . . ." I hadn't meant to say that aloud, but seeing the faces of Zell and Rinoa change so rapidly, I practically kicked myself.  
  
*RING*  
  
I looked at Squall. He was afraid, that was all that was stopping him. He could fight a sorceress, brave the strange lands of the heart, and even live through it all-but couldn't talk to his father?  
  
He was staring at me too, furious lines etched across his body like impurities in steel. I don't know why I decided to say the things that came out of my mouth after that. I don't know how things might have been different if I hadn't. But I said them, and that's that.  
  
I pointed a finger at his chest, and hissed furiously, "Damn you, Squall, he's your FATHER. GIVE him a CHANCE."  
  
Silence echoed. Slow motion, or so it seemed. The atmosphere instantly changed from tense to an almost tangible unease . . . and anger. The feeling before a battle when the fight is imminent, but the victor is uncertain.  
  
The expressions on everyone changed. Selphie's and Rinoa's were the most noticeable, awe tinged with anxiety and-in Rinoa's case-grief. Zell stepped forward, his reflex of being defiant in the face of doubt. Irvine stepped back, and shouldered his gun-waiting until he knew more before he acted.  
  
Squall's expression didn't change at all. I think, at the moment, he'd forgotten everyone else even existed. At the rate his mind was probably going, I really don't know if that was a good thing or not.  
  
*RING*  
  
I suddenly decided that getting out of Squall's range was a very, very good idea.  
  
I headed slowly and deliberately towards the door.  
  
"Answer the phone, Squall," I said as I walked toward the door. "Let's go everyone. He doesn't need an audience for this.  
  
Slowly, everyone profiled back out the door, each craning their heads over their shoulders for a last look at Squall as they left. I followed, and turned my head back as well. "Squall," I said in a softer tone.  
  
He turned to me, face impossible to read.  
  
I went to leave, but shocked myself, by saying, "Maybe Squall, maybe my views are wrong. But maybe you can't see the whole picture either." I don't remember putting that much emotion in my voice before . . .  
  
He nodded tightly, curtly. I left.  
  
I saw him pick up the phone as I closed the door. And I found myself being stared down. By everyone.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I tapped my foot impatiently.  
  
"Come on, come on, answer the friggin phone . . ." I heard my voice mutter slowly.  
  
Why the heck was it so important, anyway? If she had hung up on me, would it really matter? I thought on that a bit.  
  
Quistis was . . . reliable. Her opinion, when given, was either well thought out or honestly given. I guess if she had hung up on me, that'd mean her opinion of me was . . . less than I'd hoped, to say the least.  
  
Wait a sec . . .  
  
When was the last time I really cared about what a female thought of me?  
  
I shook my head. Bad mind. Bad, very bad, sit, stay! Good boy.  
  
The ring tone droned on. My spirits sank slightly.  
  
Well . . . at least I don't have to worry about-  
  
The ringing stopped, and heard the line pick up. I felt strangely relieved, and laughed nervously. "Hey, are you okay? I mean, the line just cut off and for a second there-"  
  
I was interrupted by a voice that was definitely NOT Quistis Trepe's.  
  
"This isn't Quistis."  
  
Oh . . . crap . . . was that who I thought it was?  
  
Yeah . . . it probably was . . .  
  
Squall was on the line. Oh, man. This was not good.  
  
"Oh . . . ah . . ." I replied eloquently. Yeah, go me and my huge vocabulary, I have just royally screwed myself.  
  
"Is it true?" Squall's voice didn't sound too happy. Not that I would have been in his position, but hey, he didn't have to be so . . . icy . . . about everything. Maybe, if I promised to be really good, I could just erase the whole thing from existence . . .  
  
"Er . . . is what true?" I tested, ignoring the steady mantra in my head of 'oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap on a friggin stick oh crap'  
  
"Don't lie, dammit!" Squall sounded angry now . . . okay, anger I can deal with. I took a deep breath. Calm down, Laguna man.  
  
" . . ." I hesitated, but my voice continued without me. "Yeah, it's true."  
  
"Why?" The voice shot back. I bit my lip. Why what? There were a lot of questions that could be encompassed by that word. How the heck was I supposed to answer that? Argh.  
  
"Uh . . ." I tapped my forefingers together nervously. " . . . why . . . what?"  
  
Yeah, that wasn't the best response. Yeah, okay, it was a CRAPPY response. Squall didn't fail to notice this, bright boy that I hoped he was.  
  
"Why . . . why everything!" he exploded. Suddenly I was very glad I was on the other side of the world. "Why's you abandon me? Why'd you even HAVE me? Why the hell didn't you tell me sooner? Why the hell'd you even tell me NOW?"  
  
Too much! I pointlessly gestured a placating motion before remembering this was a phone conversation. "H-hey, hey! One at a time! I-"  
  
"My mother? Who was-" He cut in, asking breathlessly, before suddenly stopping to inhale. I answered as quickly as I could.  
  
"Raine Loire . . . Leonhart, actually . . . Winhill's resident's refused to believe she'd actually married an outsider . . ." I winced. Bad memories there . . .  
  
I shoved them away as Squall said something quietly. "So. . . the proof was there all along . . ."  
  
What? "Huh?" I queried.  
  
" . . . forget it . . ." he muttered sullenly, before seemingly taking a breath to steady himself. "So, why are you telling me NOW?!" I didn't think the whole 'steadying breath' idea had worked too great.  
  
My immediate response was one I had given myself a dozen times already today--"Because I was too much of a coward to do it before."  
  
"That's not what I-" a testy, almost warning tone came over the line. I was immune to that kind of tone, I'd used it a couple times myself. I interrupted before he could finish. "Alright, alright . . . guilt, mostly, to tell the truth." As good a reason as any . . . or as bad, depending on you're point of view . . . "But then, Quistis had a good point too."  
  
"Quistis?" Squall muttered, sounding not angry anymore, just aggravated. I'm not too sure that was a good thing.  
  
I continued. "Yeah. You deserve to know the truth, you deserve to know who your father is . . . was . . ." I swallowed, realized the f word had come up for the first time. My voice got really awkward after that. " . . . whatever you choose to look at it as . . ."  
  
I was giving him a choice at that point. That was the perfect opportunity to say, 'you're not my father, you bastard' or some derivative thereof. I held my breath, which let me tell ya, wasn't too healthy considering my heart rate.  
  
Instead, in a voice inflected with a reasonable amount of humor, he replied, "I don't think Quistis added that last part."  
  
I blinked. "She didn't . . ." I said rather faintly. Well, even if he chooses to believe it, it doesn't mean that he's gonna be happy about it. Tread carefully, Laguna.  
  
"How did Quistis find out?"  
  
Oh, shit, he had to ask the one question that I couldn't answer. I didn't really want to lie at this point. "Er . . . I, uh . . ."  
  
" . . . " A noncommittal sound. Not a good sign.  
  
"It was . . . an unspoken agreement, I think . . . I helped her out a bit, and she helped me in return . . ." An evasion. Hah. All this politics crap was paying off, yeah?  
  
I don't think he fell for it, but at least he played along, if just for the sake of satisfying his curiosity. "You must have done her a big favor."  
  
Forbidden territory in range . . . "Yeah, I did, actually . . ." I saved her life, not a favor really, more of a duty.  
  
" . . . what?"  
  
"Huh?" I slapped my head. Yeah, my vocabulary was sucking today.  
  
Squall snorted. "What did you do for Quistis?"  
  
"Er . . . I . . ." casting around in my mind for a decent lie, I winced. Oh, to hell with it. "I really can't tell you . . . the whole unspoken agreement thing involved that piece of information remaining confidential . . ."  
  
"Yeah, whatever . . ." Oh, great, now he's all icy again. I hastily backtracked.  
  
"Don't get me wrong! It's just that . . . well, she'll tell you when she's ready."  
  
"In nineteen years?"  
  
I winced. "Ouch . . . low blow . . . deserved, but low."  
  
Silence, of the uncomfortable variety. See also 'AWKWARD' and 'UNEASY.'  
  
Squall broke it. "I called Ellone this morning as well."  
  
"Aw, man . . . Don't blame her for this, I asked her to tell you. I screwed up, yeah, but . . ."  
  
"I didn't blame her, I asked her questions. Yeah, and it turns out she didn't know half the things she showed me. She was . . . confused. She had thought you didn't know at all . . ."  
  
"Oh, dammit. . ." The words slipped out before I could stop them, sounding tired and ragged. I cleared my throat, and went on. "What did you see?"  
  
"You were the guy in the spacesuit at that space station. The part where she told you . . . what I was to you." I noticed he skipped over the f word quite neatly. "Then she went back a bit farther . . . you were at the orphanage, once. You were talking to Matron about adopting . . ."  
  
"And then chickening out," I said wryly.  
  
"Yeah, you did . . . but you also rooted for me when I was fighting Seifer," he added.  
  
I thought back. I had, but only when Edea hadn't been in the room. I'd actually given him pointers while they were trying to punch each other out . . . eh heh heh . . .  
  
"I've been thinking a lot today," he broke in.  
  
I hesitated. "Sooo . . . any point in asking what about?"  
  
" . . . "  
  
"And . . . I'm thinking that's a no . . ."  
  
"I have to go."  
  
Oh man, I really have royally screwed myself. What a friggin' disaster. "Oh . . . okay then." I kept my voice carefully neutral.  
  
Squall was quiet, then- " . . . I'll call you sometime."  
  
I opened my mouth and . . . Wait a sec . . .  
  
"What?!"  
  
*CLICK*  
  
I stared at the receiver.  
  
Um . . . was he giving me a chance? I sat down harder then I meant to.  
  
A second chance . . . Quistis, I thought numbly. You were right . . .  
  
. . .  
  
. . . *clunk* . . .  
  
. . .  
  
I froze. That sure as hell wasn't Kiros or Ward.  
  
I reached for the pistol in my dresser . . .  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Does that count as a cliffie? I don't know . . .  
  
I . . . I think I overly glorified Irvine . . . but . . . I LIKE Irvine . . . When he's not trying to shoot his mother or hit on women, he's the only level headed one . . . and since Squall and Quistis aren't able to take the proper roles in this one . . .  
  
Lack . . . of . . . romance . . . driving . . . me . . . insane . . . Sorry about the slow updates. My mind has gone through an art phase; I either draw well or write well at a certain period in time. Hmmm. . .  
  
Humor of the day: Final Fantasy fans, if you have any decent plug-ins, you should be able to view this flash movie. It's made me smile many times (take out the spaces, ff.net's address bot might be acting up again). http:// www. rolandscavern. com/ newsletter / special_sep. htm  
  
Good judgement comes from bad experience . . . and a lot of that comes from bad judgement . . . so we get screwed all the way around. 


	11. finally visited

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I AM NOW ACCEPTING ANONYMOUS REVIEWS. Any flames, and that leaves . . . but, I enjoy reading my reviewers stories, so please, PLEASE sign in if you have an account! Laziness will not be tolerated!  
  
I hate flashbacks . . . luckily for you guys though, I'm smarter than to have the bar thing saying in bold type 'FLASHBACK.' That's just annoying.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
The hotel rooms here in Deling are extremely comfortable, given the amount of rich visitors they receive. I wondered slightly whether or not Laguna had stayed in this very room at one point. Given the amount of time he had supposedly spent in the bar downstairs, I didn't doubt the possibility.  
  
Deling was an active city. The traffic noise out my window alone was enough to keep me awake, but given my state of mind, I wouldn't have been able to rest anyway. I was worried.  
  
Mainly about Laguna. Squall could forgive me, given time, because I was his friend . . . But Laguna?  
  
If Squall didn't forgive Laguna, after all that Laguna's conscience had gone through over the years because of him, then Squall was more of a moron than his father was.  
  
Not that his father was a moron, or anything. . . well . . . yes, fine, Laguna was a moron. Or at least, he pretended to be, Hyne knew why.  
  
I thought back to two days ago.  
  
Two days ago, I'd left Garden. For vacation, I'd said.  
  
I'd peered at the faces staring at me. They wanted answers . . . that I couldn't give. But then, I suppose Squall won't tell them . . . and since . . . well. . .  
  
Selphie had put her hands on her hips impetuously and demanded right out. "Who's Squall's father?"  
  
"What, you don't doubt that might not be true? This man might be lying," I had, really, tried to swerve the conversation away from the inevitable. Zell waved his arm, pointed in the air.  
  
"Quistis," he'd voiced seriously, "like you'd believe it if you didn't know it was absolutely true."  
  
I'd suppressed a wince. These people knew me too well. The penalties of friendship . . . outweighed by the good, but still existent. I hadn't been able to find a reason anymore not to tell them . . .  
  
"This conversation remains between us," I had warned slowly. "Squall might not want you to know . . . this never happened. Not even to Squall."  
  
Irvine had shouldered his Exeter, shifting its considerable weight with ease. "We got it Quistis. Secret stuff, we've proved in the past we keep a secret. Now spill it."  
  
I threw in the proverbial towel. "Well . . . through a chance encounter . . ." Yes, the truth there, "I found out who Squall's birth father was. Not a shock, in its entirety, but that he was alive and aware of his paternal status was. . ." I hesitated, not a wise choice of words to explain things. I was heading into instructor mode.  
  
Zell broke in. "Why the hell didn't he claim him?!"  
  
I'd shaken my head. I had thought on all possibilities, this included. "Fear of inability. He was a fighter, Zell, our age. Could you be a father?"  
  
"I wouldn't just up and leave!" Zell exploded. "Where the hell did his morals go? The mother-"  
  
I had placated him with a hand. "Squall's mother asked him to go somewhere, and he went. When the father returned, he found the mother dead, from childbirth."  
  
Rinoa then stepped forward, and she hadn't seemed happy. "So . . . who's Squall's mom?"  
  
I'd remembered how Laguna had broken the news to me, by stating Raines name before him. At an irreparable loss for how to continue, I had followed suit " . . . Raine. Yes, THE Raine. Raine Leonhart."  
  
Irvine had choked, but motioned me to continue. I plunged forward.  
  
"Yes. However, a year or so before her death, both her marital status and name was changed . . ." I had paused, thinking over it a bit, and continued, ". . . to Raine Loire."  
  
Silence can deafen a man caught unawares just as much as words can. The silence that followed was just that kind. None of us are stupid. The others can put two and two together as well as you and I . . .  
  
"You mean to say that Laguna Loire is Squall's . . . " Zell had shaken his head. " . . . I don't believe it . . . well, I do, it's just . . ."  
  
"Sir . . . Sir Laguna?" Selphie had asked in a deferential tone. "Sir Laguna is Squall's-" she had shut her mouth on the last words. She'd shaken her head rapturously. "Oh wow . . . that's . . . not what I expected at all . . ."  
  
Irvine had shaken his head as well. "Me either . . . Quistis, how . . ?" His dazed voice was clearing fast. Soon they'd have been asking rational questions, so I'd hurried to finish my point so I could leave.  
  
A loud curse word had then come from the closed classroom door. I'd winced. "I've been helping Laguna to finally break the news to Squall . . . and that was my involvement in this fiasco."  
  
I looked back at the door. " . . . and for the last time, this conversation never happened."  
  
That had been followed by another shout, this time a bit less recognizable. Irvine had blinked pointedly. "Quistis, how many vacation days do you have?"  
  
Quite a few, actually.  
  
I had taken the hint.  
  
So here I was, in Deling, praying that Squall hadn't completely wrecked my classroom, and hoping to Hyne that Laguna wasn't suicidal . . .  
  
NO!  
  
No, that was an extremely unpleasant thought. Laguna was going to be okay. Laguna can take care of himself.  
  
He might seem like a total ditz some times, but he . . . appreciated things. He could hold even the most trivial thing up to the light and make it shine. He was an optimist to a certain extreme . . . less than Selphie's aggravatingly persistent idealism, more-far, far more-than my wry pessimism.  
  
Laguna wasn't the kind who could stand by and let someone be miserable. Even those who thoroughly enjoyed their bad moods couldn't help but find his well placed antics heartening. Not that I enjoy my bad moods, of course, but I prefer them sometimes.  
  
I thought back to when I had fought beside him, in that pitifully vain attempt to protect my charge. He'd obviously kept in shape, and his skills weren't rusty at all. He was a fighter to the core, honest, straightforward.  
  
He'd managed to age well, in fact. I remembered how his startling green eyes had flashed when . . . oh, damn . . .  
  
. . . since when do I care about Laguna's eyes?  
  
I wondered why in Hyne's name I was thinking about Laguna in the first place . . . I was worried, yes, but this was just plain ridiculous.  
  
I eyed the television perched in the corner of the room with apprehension. The things killed brain cells, really. And that was about it. However, perhaps it would be best to know if Balamb had mounted a full scale attack upon Esthar . . . and since I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway . . .  
  
I turned on the news . . . which was on commercial. Sighing, I slumped over on the bed. Worry was apparently having entirely too much fun eating its way through my stomach.  
  
Suppose, for a moment, that in a slight mishap of fate the conversation over the phone line went well, and those shouted curses were entirely misdirected . . . how would that change things? Squall would have a father. Rinoa would have a father in law, so soon after losing HER father. I groaned; would Rinoa end up ruining this chance?  
  
Sighing, I cast my eyes back at the flashing screen.  
  
" . . . which Estharian President Laguna Loire commented on earlier today." My ears perked up. What? I fumbled for the remote and turned up the volume as Laguna's image flickered on the screen. He looked less like the Laguna I knew, and . . . more like a completely different person, who was used to power and its responsibilities.  
  
His strangely somber expression intensified the effect. That moronic act of his was astonishingly effective if he had managed to hide this facet of himself. His voice filtered through. "The assassination attempts-" WHAT?  
  
Assassination attempts? Of course! No doubt those who killed General Caraway would be after Laguna, too . . . and in the political turmoil of a major leader's death, no one could really do much about these attempted murders until things calmed down enough for them to focus on it. They'd merely have to take them as they came . . .  
  
Kiros and Ward, they'd be responsible for the whole bodyguard bit. But would they be able to take it all? If they were injured, who had enough skill? It's not as though Laguna could turn to SeeD anymore . . .  
  
I swore softly; my mental outburst had caused me to miss parts of his speech. ". . . I'm still alive, and I plan on staying that way for awhile, thanks." Laguna gave a cocky grin, and the news switched over to some hospital.  
  
I shook my head. His way of seeming both serious and endearing was almost certainly why he had remained in power so long. He was practically a dictator, even if a benign and well-loved one.  
  
But the assassinations . . . he had enough to be dealing with. He was a president, and this sort of thing was his duty, but it was still . . . unfair.  
  
Why now? What if Laguna died? Was it my fault? Should I have waited before making Laguna break the news to Squall? Then, Laguna could have still turned to SeeD about it. My fault? Was it?  
  
Was it?  
  
I stood up. Guilt was not going to get the better of me. Not this time.  
  
I was going to something about it.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I woke up with a splitting headache. Could you blame me? Things in the past two days had been really hectic.  
  
First off, that conversation with Squall. Was that good? Bad? And he said he'd call-which had resulted in a slight lack of sleep-and he hadn't yet. It'd only been a couple days, but . . . had he changed his mind?  
  
I'd tried calling Quistis back, she could figure things like this out better then I could. But, the only person who answered her phone was that Selphie chick . . . and, to tell you the truth, she scared me kinda . . . So, I couldn't get in contact with Quistis for her opinion.  
  
And that wasn't all . . . it got worse. Gee, how lucky for me.  
  
In the face of my obvious refusal of the treaty Galbadia had drawn up, it seemed that Koryu Deling had come up with a solution to the problem-kill me. He'd tried three times already, and though luckily none of them succeeded (thanks to my awesome skills, oh yeah!) they'd probably keep trying.  
  
The first time, I'd had to shoot the guy in my room. Messy.  
  
So last night I had slept in some guest bed, and while I was there, Kiros found another guy sneaking into my real room. And . . . let's just say that the third guy hadn't been so inconspicuous-he'd opened fire while I was eating lunch. Totally took the edge off my appetite.  
  
I groaned and rubbed my forehead in exasperated pain. Argh . . . gotta get some aspirin . . .  
  
*knock knock knock*  
  
My head-with much protest-jerked up. Three business-like raps? It wasn't Ward . . .Ward's knock was slow and powerful, and well . . .Kiros didn't knock at all. My personnel knew to speak up. None of those three were at my door . . . and no one else was allowed anywhere near here . . .  
  
Not again. . . damn assassins . . .  
  
I reached for my Uzi, and in a falsely cheerful voice, called out, "Er . . . just a sec!" Trying to think around the pounding in my head, I slipped around the room's edge to reach the door. This stealth thing sucked.  
  
Take a breath, Laguna, count to three . . . I narrowed my eyes and swung open the door, pointing the gun at where their head should be-  
  
And froze, as the 'assassin' merely raised an eyebrow, and began to speak.  
  
"Well, at least someone here has an ounce of sense. Honestly, for such an advanced city-state, you have extraordinarily lax security."  
  
My jaw dropped. Literally, it fell open, I swear; cause really, I was NOT expecting Quistis to be standing there, seemingly unfazed by the fact that I had a high powered automatic weapon pointed at her head.  
  
Well, if Quistis was here, what did that mean? Just visiting? Or . . . or had Squall sent her to kill me? Wait . . . what was I thinking? Quistis wouldn't agree to that.  
  
She continued coolly, as if she were reporting to a superior on something. "Your guards require far more training, I disabled them easily. Your cameras are far too easily avoided-not to mention obvious-and I found an easily accessed open window. It's a good thing for your sake I came, Mr. Loire."  
  
"It's Laguna, not Mr. friggin' Loire . . ." I muttered, before blinking and lowering the gun. Shaking my head, I queried dazedly, "What . . . what the heck are you doing here?"  
  
"Testing your security. In all seriousness, you should be glad SeeD wasn't called in against you. You'd be dead," Quistis met my eyes without qualms; she was standing at attention.  
  
How had she . . ? I looked around for the guards that were supposed to be at my door. Seeing my gaze, she pointed to two lumps in the hall-lumps that happened to be wearing Estharian uniform. I winced-KO'ed, both of them.  
  
"Uh . . . oops?" I scratched my head bashfully. Eh . . . I'd get Ward to demote them later. "So, uh . . . what are you here for. . . exactly . . .?" I motioned for her to continue.  
  
"I'm here to help." Quistis finished simply and crisply. "You obviously need it." Oh, this was doing wonders for my ego. Not.  
  
"I didn't call for SeeD . . ." Had Squall . . .?  
  
"I came on my own." Quistis stood a bit straighter. Yeah, I should've known Squall wouldn't have . . . wait, on her own? But . . .  
  
She cut into my thought, explaining. "When I was talking to you, Squall heard your name mentioned. He cut me off. I left the room while he talked to you, and I was struck most suddenly by an epiphany."  
  
An epiphany? "Really?"  
  
"A vacation-a very LONG vacation-was suddenly a very good idea."  
  
I blinked, and laughed. It wasn't really that funny, it was actually kinda true, but the fact that Quistis had made any joke at all was a good sign. "Yeah, I can see that!" A thought struck me. "Wait . . . so this is your vacation?"  
  
"Yes," she answered steadily, still at attention.  
  
"But you said you were working . . ." I trailed off, thinking.  
  
What? SeeDs weren't allowed to take jobs unsanctioned by their CO, and Quistis wasn't working for SeeD for the moment. She was on her vacation, she said, so . . . if she was here to help. . .  
  
Oh, CRAP.  
  
She probably still felt she'd failed Rinoa's father; she was here to make sure she didn't do the same thing with Squall's. AKA, me.  
  
She was here, of her own will, unpaid, unasked, wasting her scarce vacation days to protect me.  
  
Something within me twanged. "Aw, man . . . no, you can't be wasting your vacation here!" I kinda panicked, looking up and down the hall for something to prove that with.  
  
She kept at attention, and waited until I looked back at her bewilderingly to reply. "Well, it's better to waste it here then to waste it getting drunk in Deling."  
  
Hey, that's my favorite vaca . . . oh . . . oops . . . "Yeah . . ." I muttered nervously. She followed my awkward head scratching motion with her eyes . . . she was still at attention. "Hey, hey, relax!" She didn't budge.  
  
. . . Oh, yeah! She was used to the whole military thing, right? "Man, Quistis . . . at ease."  
  
She loosened up automatically, and shook her head. "Unless, of course, you want me to leave . . . I wouldn't impose upon you." Calm and cool as usual.  
  
"N-no, no!" I blurted out without thinking. "There's plenty of room in this behemoth of a house." Well, yeah . . . it was the presidential residence . . . it kind had to be huge . . .  
  
Quistis's eyes wrinkled up slightly at the corners. "Most likely. I imagine things are busy at the moment, so I won't keep you waiting. I need to speak with your head of security; and as soon as possible."  
  
I rubbed the ridge in between my eyes; concentrating. "Busy is an understatement . . ."  
  
Between dodging various bullets, I'd been trying to neutralize the entire situation politically, but this kinda thing takes work. You can't just openly accuse a country of trying to kill you, that just gives them permission to try harder. The trick is to make them happy enough that they decide you aren't so bad after all . . .  
  
. . . but President Koryu Deling wasn't a happy person. It was obviously the treaty or nothing, no compromises. And that was a damn stupid treaty.  
  
I sighed half-heartedly. Things had been worse at some points, but hey, that didn't mean I had to like what was going on now.  
  
"Mr. Loire?" Quistis questioned, almost worriedly. "Laguna?"  
  
I shook my head, and snapped up with a sloppy grin. "I'm fine, I'm fine! Right, you wanted Kiros? He's around here somewhere . . . in fact, he's probably on his way . . ."  
  
Quistis peered down the hall. "Yes, he is." She stepped back, ending up slightly behind me.  
  
"Hey, Kiros, wh-"  
  
He cut me off curtly. "Someone's gotten past security."  
  
I snorted, pointing at the unconscious lumps across the hall. "Yeah I kinda figured that out."  
  
Kiros groaned. "Don't tell me-we have another clean up job in your rooms?"  
  
"Nope." I grinned widely.  
  
"Hmm?" Kiros tilted his head, puzzled. I stepped aside, revealing Quistis.  
  
"Kiros, remember Quistis Trepe?" Quistis held out her hand solemnly as I re introduced her. Kiros took it, but as soon as he did that, he turned to me and demanded, "What's she doing here?"  
  
"Er . . ." I scratched my head.  
  
Quistis cleared her throat. "I'm perfectly capable of answering for myself. I'm here to help."  
  
Kiros narrowed his eyes at Quistis. Aw, man, now's not the time to go into Bodyguard Buddy mode . . . he ignored my obvious eye roll. "I was under the impression that SeeD was out of the picture for awhile. . ."  
  
"She's here on her own-OUCH!"  
  
"Well . . . you see, Kiros . . . I . . ." Quistis was obviously fishing for an excuse. I slapped my forehead, and leaned over.  
  
Quistis stiffened as I muttered by her ear, "You really suck at lying."  
  
"Well," she hissed back softly, "I'm working on it."  
  
Kiros stared at me and Quistis, then at Quistis, then at me. And grinned hugely. "Oooh . . . I see now."  
  
"See what?" I demanded, to be joined in the same statement by Quistis.  
  
Kiros kept grinning. "You know, you coulda just told me, Laguna. It's not like I'd tell anyone." He was shaking down suppressed laughter.  
  
"Tell anyone what?" I demanded. Quistis shifted questioningly.  
  
"I don't see why it's such a secret," Kiros raised an appraising eyebrow at Quistis. "She's quite a catch."  
  
. . .  
  
I looked at Quistis and blinked. "Secret?"  
  
Quistis blinked back, doubly so. "Catch?"  
  
. . .  
  
We stared at each other for a full two seconds. Yeah, she was really good looking, actually . . . And we were standing really close . . . WHAT the HELL was Kiros SAYING?!  
  
I jumped back as if burned, and Quistis-who was partially flushed-neatly sidestepped. Kiros thought the entire thing was hilarious, and Quistis stated acidly that she'd get the information from him later, and she'd join me for breakfast.  
  
"How did someone so rude and brutal end up as an advisor in diplomacy?" Quistis shook her head as we made our way to the dining room-and away from Kiros.  
  
I grinned. Hey, my headache was gone. "Ever attended an international conference?"  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
The leading up is done! I'm pleased! The stage is set, folks. Now, was all that really necessary just to get Quistis by Laguna's side? Yes. It built my characters, set up the plot-the one thing here I'm really proud of-and was infinitely more interesting than just having the usual 'Love Interest #1 is sent to bodyguard Love Interest #2.' That is very overused, and very BORING.  
  
Plus, now I don't have to start the relationship from step one. They trust each other now-which is the first step.  
  
Someone once said 'make love not war.' What the heck were they talking about? Love IS war. Rev the engines, man the guns, arm yourselves! This is where the battle of tension, uncomfortable moments, and dirty thoughts begins!  
  
Factoid: Yesterday, a friend showed me the FF7 packet which comes with the game-I own the game, not the packet. I share a birthday and blood type with Tifa Lockheart . . . not to mention hair color and considerable build . . .  
  
. . . Hmm . . . suburbia . . . makes me glad I'm a social reject . . .  
  
Alas, minutiae and technicalities are life itself. 


	12. fleeting emotion

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I'm sorry the updates have been slow. My schoolwork gets in the way . . . a lower classman (or, classwoman) doesn't have much of chance to get the good report subjects . Plus, I'm getting shipped away for Christmas AGAIN. At least this year it isn't Thanksgiving too. . .well, wish me luck, this chapter is going to take forever to finish.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
As Laguna handed me a paper to read, I pondered on my conclusion. It had taken twelve hours to observe, to register, to deny, and then to accept, if with alacrity, this statement. The conclusion was this: Laguna was an extremely busy man.  
  
See, I am a very efficient person, and as a rule, I can do things twice as fast as most people. However, I was stunned by the efficacy of Laguna in his office, managing to juggle the everyday affairs of his country and keep on top of the major issues at hand. He had eaten lunch, held a teleconference, passed seven laws, overruled a controversial trial, and kicked Kiros in the shins twice, ALL IN ONE HOUR.  
  
I marveled still at his assured air. Gone was the rather moronic man of clumsy words and ditzy attitude. Here was a man who knew what had to be done, and did it. Who knew that the future was not ours to see, but that the present was ours to use.  
  
I glanced at him fleetingly before I reluctantly looked back at the parchment in my hand. He had been working on a revised treaty all day between tasks, merely to propose in place of the treaty he had handed to me to look at.  
  
I sighed. I already knew the gist of things just from listening in on the conversations around me, but I leaned in over it anyway, picking around the formal phrases to decipher the words behind it. "So this is the incentive for the assassinations?" I asked casually; if it was, I could already see why.  
  
Kiros pointed out a few lines. "Yup, Galbadia has a lot to gain from this."  
  
That was an understatement, by a long shot. It was a very demanding and slightly threatening document. I shook my head at the audacity of the document's author, which was no doubt Koryu Deling.  
  
Laguna must have seen my small, condescending gesture as something else, because he turned the document back around to face him, and casting a wary eye it, explained. "Esthar's always been seen as stingy by other governments, cause we don't share as much of our stuff as they want."  
  
"They're lucky you share at all," I replied with a raised eyebrow.  
  
To my slight dismay and annoyance, Laguna continued as if I hadn't said anything. "See that desert out there?" He pointed out the window; over the skyline was a line of reddened dirt. I nodded vaguely.  
  
"That little line of dust? That's Esthar," He shook his head. "Our technology is all we have to trade. We rely on that trade. If we give all our technology away at once, we get screwed in the long run."  
  
I coughed; Laguna certainly had . . . a unique way of phrasing things.  
  
I leaned over the document once more, and tapped my nail on a paragraph. "So if you signed this, and all the trades to these countries were cut off . . ." I let my finger slide to a different portion of the paper ". . . and these technologies given to Galbadia . . ."  
  
"We'd be weakened enough - and they'd be strengthened enough - in ten years for them to move in and take over," Laguna declared morosely. "So I can't sign it, and the baddies are still gonna be coming at me." I jerked my head up as Laguna let out a wry, very un-Laguna chuckle. "Sucks to be me, huh?"  
  
At that, my SeeD training took over. "Your decisions are irrelevant." I said in a clipped voice. Laguna looked up sharply, and I hurried to correct my harsh tone.  
  
"My duty would still lie in protecting you," I gently added. My duty, yes.  
  
He maintained eye contact, his hair falling over his face loosely. In a soft, almost regretting voice, he said, "Even you can't catch bullets, Quistis."  
  
I snorted. "I can if I put enough bone in the way."  
  
Laguna's head jerked up, and his eyes widened slightly. "Okay, that was NOT funny." He stood up and glared at me.  
  
"It wasn't meant to be." I gazed levelly back. I had tried to kill myself less than a week ago. Though life was more tempting, death did not scare me.  
  
He snorted, and Laguna's feathery hair blew out at his burst of breath. "So don't . . . just don't . . ." Laguna's mouth stretched strangely in an ill- covered yawn, and his sentence was cut short.  
  
Kiros plucked the treaty off of the desk, and rolled it up abrubtly. Kiros had been responsible for the preservation of Laguna's dignity more times than I could count in the activities of the day. "Hey, 'Guna, you need to sleep sometime," he suggested.  
  
Though Kiros's tone was inflected with 'you don't have a choice in the matter,' Laguna ignored it. He leaned back over the paper he was working on. "Yeah, I'm almost done here," he muttered, avoiding eye contact.  
  
Kiros tapped the rolled up paper on his shoulder thoughtfully. "He's not gonna take a revised anything. With this new Koryu guy, its gonna be all or nothing." He accentuated his final word with a twack on the head to Laguna.  
  
Laguna waved his hand absently over the spot that Kiros had hit. "I still gotta do this. And as I said, I'm almost done."  
  
It was my duty here to protect Laguna, yes. I had known that it wouldn't be an easy job, due to his being Laguna Loire. However, I hadn't been aware that I would need to protect my client from himself as well.  
  
If he didn't get any sleep, how would he keep up the remarkable pace that he had set for himself all day? He would, no doubt, set up the same pace tomorrow. How on Hyne's good earth did he manage?  
  
I placed my hand over the center of his page, causing him to look up at me with a slightly shocked look as I leaned over his desk. "Then you can finish it tomorrow, Laguna," I stated, setting my mouth firmly.  
  
He shifted uncomfortably, and opened his mouth a few times as if to reply, but then he suddenly grinned. "Hey! I didn't hafta remind you to call me Laguna!" His fist pounded the air  
  
I coughed. Oops. Well, if me being a bit more familiar with him made him happy, I suppose it wouldn't hurt. After all, I have a lot of vacation days to use up, so I'd obviously be in his company for a very long time. Well, roughly three months, anyway.  
  
"Let's go, Laguna, you need to sleep." I headed to the door.  
  
"Er . . . why are you . . ." I turned, to see Laguna still standing by his desk, looking somewhere between bashful and embarrassed. "What are you . . . "  
  
I cursed inwardly as my face heated slightly. I did have to walk him to his room, but honestly, did he have to make a big deal out of it?  
  
I cleared my throat tentatively. "I need to search your quarters." At Laguna's look of profound relief I continued the thread of thought, ticking my fingers. "Explosives, killers in the closet, etc. etc. You understand," I finished smoothly.  
  
Kiros smirked, and ruined my cover-up by leaning over to whisper something in Laguna's ear. I couldn't make anything out, but Laguna's face stained noticeably red, and he muttered something unintelligible as he stumbled out the door behind me.  
  
"What did Kiros say?" I queried.  
  
He winced, and scratched his head, as he always did when he was nervous. "It wasn't exactly . . . erm . . . appropriate?" he ventured quietly, not looking at me.  
  
"What a fine teacher's excuse," I goaded. "I do believe I've rubbed off on you, Laguna."  
  
I blinked after I said that.  
  
What? I hadn't just . . . teased him, had I?  
  
I scarcely tease anyone. ANYONE. I had taken familiarity too far. I had teased a total of eight people in my life, and now Laguna had gone and made himself number nine.  
  
Luckily, Laguna didn't notice my lapse of character. "Er . . . It had something to do with your 'checking quarters' comment . . ." He avoided eye contact, and the air became awkwardly heavy.  
  
I thought about that for a moment, shaking off the thick air's effects, before the implications hit me. ". . . Oh."  
  
"Right . . ." Laguna stopped. His room was right beside me. "Right in there then . . ." He slumped himself against the wall, obviously not planning on going in.  
  
"Right," I muttered awkwardly, before shaking my head and standing straighter. "Wait here."  
  
I opened the door and walked in.  
  
Stepping slowly, I drew my whip out cautiously, just to be safe. I left the lights out; though this might hinder my senses, it would also hinder my opponents. The shadows that the open door cast looked dull and harmless, and I flipped out my flashlight for a more thorough search of the main room.  
  
I admit; I had been curious as to what Laguna Loire's bedroom looked like. Not so much, of course, that I'd dwell upon it, but it certainly wasn't an opportunity I was going to let pass me by. However, now that I was standing right outside of it, I just felt awkward.  
  
Wisely, I decided to do the other rooms, and save the bedroom for last.  
  
I checked the likely places first, drawers, closets, under the couch, the pantry . . . Laguna drank coffee, and kept champagne next to the coffee. Convenient for entertainment . . . but I doubted Laguna did much entertainment in his personal rooms.  
  
Perhaps he'd had a lover at one point? I brushed the thought away nervously; I did not want to have to deal with scandalous mental images while poring through Laguna's bedroom.  
  
Normally, in a mission like this, there would be at least two SeeDs; one for a day shift, and one for a night. However, in the hour that the two shifts overlapped, the two SeeDs would search the rooms of the employer together. Then, it hadn't seemed like such an invasion of privacy.  
  
But this mission wasn't a usual mission. I had put myself willingly and unpaid in this position. I was sifting through Laguna Loire's foodstuffs by choice.  
  
One room left . . . I peered into his bedroom Blue décor, typical color for a male to decorate with . . . but no pictures on the walls. A few framed magazine articles . . . I stepped into the room to read the title of one.  
  
'Well,' the nasty little voice in my head popped up, 'Look at this. You are, by your own choice, in an attractive mans bedroom. What are you going to do about this, Quistis?'  
  
If I had brushed away my first uncomfortable thought, I stomped down furiously upon this one, but I still ended up with a flushed face and an awkward wince.  
  
I sniffed. The air here was . . . different. Not noticeable, normally . . . not quite, but my nerves were jumpy, and my senses were strangely heightened . . .  
  
My boots clicked timidly as I crossed the hardwood floor, and hurriedly checked the room, still slightly flushed. I stepped to the center of the room and frowned. Why did the air still feel strange?  
  
Let me explain something to you. As humans, we have been conditioned by millennia of evolution to not look up, because until recently, nothing was big enough to take us from the sky. Why waste survival senses on something unnecessary?  
  
So I suppose it wasn't completely my fault that I had failed to look at the ceiling.  
  
The man attacked from above, and landed directly behind me.  
  
Instinct born of years of training forced my body to go limp, and I fell solidly to ground, only to roll to the left, coming up in a crouch. The man's knife buried itself in an armoire with a sound thunk, and he released it to face me.  
  
Laguna, if you heard that, please run.  
  
Perhaps he hadn't heard it? I held my whip at the ready, although in such close quarters it would be little use. The intruder attacked me with another knife, yelling horribly.  
  
Well, Laguna had certainly heard that.  
  
I cursed silently; Laguna, with his misplaced sense of chivalry, would most likely burst in to 'rescue' me. Sir Laguna, indeed.  
  
I reached within me for a 'Protect' for Laguna, for when he inevitably bolted into the room.  
  
I dodged another strike, and snapped my whip. My long distance weaponry was useless here . . . I dropped my whip and fell into Zell's favorite fighting dance . . .a moving target, fists up, ready to block.  
  
He didn't come, he stepped back towards the entrance, and behind him, I saw Laguna through the doorway, trying to get a clear shot. I leapt to the side, and my opponent took a grenade out of his bag at the same time as Laguna lifted his weapon to the assassins head.  
  
BANG.  
  
The man fell after one shot from Laguna's pistol. He crumpled to the floor, and I looked at Laguna, the adrenaline still coursing in me. He didn't return my glance. I looked down at the fallen man. In his hand was the grenade.  
  
The pinless grenade.  
  
I stood there, and in the precious seconds it took for my mind to register that, Laguna acted. He grabbed my arms, drew me close to him, and jump- dived over the bed and to the other side.  
  
After that was a deafening noise, a splintering of wood and cracking stone, and short, sharp whistling sounds of shrapnel flying through the air. I don't know what it looked like precisely, because it was very dark . . . for some reason.  
  
Deafening noise, and . . .  
  
Silence. No . . . not total silence, but compared to the chaos just moments before, it was utter stillness. There was still a faint popping of wood, and something was on top of me.  
  
Why was it so dark?  
  
And then I realized; my eyes were closed.  
  
My eyes slit open, and I coughed at the dust and debris still floating in the air. Squinting, I stayed still, not sure if by moving I would trigger an avalanche of broken wood and rubble.  
  
I did, however, shift my weight, and wondered numbly what the warm weight over me was. I opened my eyes completely, fighting the tears that rose from the dust content.  
  
Laguna . . . was . . .  
  
Laguna was . . . on me? Still on me, shielding me from the grenade blow . . . still trying to catch his breath . . .  
  
I was scared, to tell it quite frankly. Not of Laguna, no, he'd never take advantage of a situation like this. I, for some unexplainable reason, trust Laguna. No, I wasn't scared of Laguna, I have confidence in Laguna.  
  
But for the first time in my life, I didn't fully trust myself.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Okay, so Quistis had been right to check my room, awkward as it may have seemed. I'd probably be . . . well, dead if it weren't for Quistis. And I sort of like living, so that's cool. Of course, Quistis would be dead right now if it weren't for ME, but let's not hash details here, 'K?  
  
Argh . . . my room was in shambles, but I was okay thanks to Quistis, and Quistis was okay thanks to me, and that was all that really mattered right now. I had a few nasty cuts on my back from the shrapnel, but my now demolished bed had taken most of the hit.  
  
A small cough snapped me out of my mental check-over. I blearily shook my head, and a single fact popped up in my mind.  
  
'Hay, Laguna, you do realize you're like, ON Quistis, right?'  
  
Oh.  
  
CRAP.  
  
That whole diving-at-someone-to-play-human-shield gig had a major drawback. Yeah. You ended up in an awkward position with whoever you were shielding, which in training camp had been a big joke . . . here, it was a bit more serious.  
  
See, in case you didn't know, Quistis is a girl. Yup. A woman, really . . . an attractive, young woman. And even if my mind had somehow managed to lay this fact aside, my body had NOT.  
  
I stared down at Quistis, and she stared up at me.  
  
The same damn annoying voice rose up, 'She trusts you.'  
  
Ah, shoot. This was very uncool.  
  
I rolled off as quickly as possible, hissing silently as a fresh burst of pain from my torn up back rewarded my effort. And man, did I pray to Hyne that she hadn't noticed . . . erm . . . anything . . . yeah.  
  
She sat up with a small noise, and turned to me almost weakly. Aw, man . . . I blinked, and looked up away from her, cursing my leg for choosing just now to cramp. I cleared my throat before saying anything, "Er . . . sorry . . ."  
  
Quistis must have been catching her breath too, although probably not for the same reasons as me. Her voice was breathy as she said, "Oh . . . it's quite alright, it was nothing . . ."  
  
We sat in silence for a moment, breathing heavily. I ruefully looked back at my bad. Dang, I liked that comforter . . .  
  
"Laguna?" a voice said softly. I turned to Quistis slowly.  
  
She cleared her throat, and I leaned forward, only to be shot back by . . .  
  
"What the hell did you think you were doing?!"  
  
I blinked, and did a double take at her face. She looked at me with an expression of annoyed disgust, nostrils flaring in indignition.  
  
"WHAT?!" I yelped, scrambling for footing to get up. Had she noticed!? "Er . . . you just said it was . . . I swear, it was an accident . . . well, kinda not really, but . . ." Yeah, just dig yourself deeper there . . . Argh . . .  
  
"Not that!" she snapped, as she stood furiously, and offered me a hand up. I didn't want to think how much the frayed skin on my back would tear if I lifted my arm. But, me and endorphins were really good friends at the moment, so I gritted my teeth and took her hand anyway.  
  
Not good; as I stumbled up, I hit something with my back, and I wasn't able to hold back a strangled cry. DAMN, it hurt!  
  
Quistis's eyes narrowed, and she grabbed my shoulder and turned me around in a single motion. I heard her hissing indrawn breath, and I wondered vaguely how bad it looked before I was facing her again and she was poking me in the chest.  
  
"I'M supposed to be protecting YOU, Laguna Loire!" she fumed. "NOT the other way around!" Her index finger hit me square in the center of my collarbone.  
  
"Um . . . I did kinda just prevent your intestines from being splattered on the wall . . ." I looked at her dazedly, wasn't she forgetting that little fact? I faltered, as she continued blindly.  
  
"I can't protect you if you're dead, Laguna!"  
  
"You can't protect me if you're dead either, Quistis," I said in as reasonable a tone as possible.  
  
It was kinda funny watching Quistis gape like a fish for a few seconds, but then she crossed her arms, and in a huff, muttered, "Don't be so reasonable . . . I'm not used to it."  
  
The room got a lot colder all of a sudden.  
  
Had she believed my moron façade? I normally would have been happy to fool such an obviously intelligen person . . . but instead, I felt strangely depressed. I didn't want her to see me as the klutzy, moronic president of Esthar. I wanted her to see me as Laguna Loire, as Kiros and Ward saw me.  
  
For some reason . . .  
  
That pissed me off.  
  
"Fine," I snapped.  
  
"Good!" she snapped back, glaring at me.  
  
"Yeah!" I countered  
  
"Hmph!" Quistis seemed determined to have the last say, and I was about to reply again when I heard a crunching noise behind me.  
  
" . . !? "  
  
"Laguna! Oh Hyne, what happened!" Kiros picked his way around the trash with Ward and a few guards. Quistis gave an irritated sigh, but didn't say anything.  
  
"Well, you see . . ." I paused as I felt a Curaga peel silently over the wounds on my back. Smart of Quistis; if Kiros had see my wounds, he'd of freaked and forced me to stay in bed for week, and I really didn't need that right now.  
  
Kiros shook his head. "You see . . . what?" he demanded.  
  
I twitched, and explained slowly. "She was checking around . . . and I heard a shout that wasn't Quistis . . . so I came in, and shot the guy, but he'd pulled the pin on a grenade, so . . ."  
  
"So this idiot, with no regard for his safety, decides to play 'Sir Laguna the Infernally Moronic' and shield me!" Quistis cut in sharply, punctuating her words with slicing hand gestures. "He should have gone for help, not come barging in with no idea of the situation! He-"  
  
Kiros, who had obviously been hiding a laugh, lost the fight with his mirth and began to chuckle.  
  
I leaned over towards Kiros and muttered nervously, "You really shouldn't piss her off . . . "  
  
Quistis glared pointedly at Kiros. "There is nothing humorous in the slightest about any of this," she declared almost haughtily. I didn't think so either, but Kiros did have a weird sense of humor.  
  
He calmed down and said in a soothing voice, "Yeah . . . okay." Kiros paused, and turned to me. ". . . Laguna, where are you sleeping tonight? You can't be thinking of sleeping in here."  
  
Ward shook his head. " . . . " Kiros opened his mouth to translate, but Quistis snapped out, "He'll be rooming in Ward's room, since Ward has the night shift anyway."  
  
I stared at her. Ward stared at her. Kiros did too. How the heck had she known what Ward had meant? Kiros was really the only one who could translate Ward. . .  
  
"Well . . . so, that clears up the sleeping arrangements," Kiros covered smoothly.  
  
I nodded absently, then looked up. "Wait! Where's Quistis sleeping?"  
  
Quistis picked her way over to the door. "In a guest room Kiros assigned me." She looked back at me hesitantly. "It's nearby, don't hesitate to call for me."  
  
Huh? I blinked, and it occurred to me: this was Quistis's apology. Her way of saying she wasn't mad at me, since she couldn't with all the forensics people swarming about the room. And knowing her, I'd probably get amore formal apology later, but for now, this ws all she could offer.  
  
"Yeah, sure!" I grinned cheerfully. My assurance to her. She nodded, looking slightly relieved.  
  
Kiros cleared his throat. "Ward, can you show Quistis her room? I need to talk to Laguna." He looked at me seriously. Crap  
  
Listen, in my experience, the words 'We need to talk' or any derivative thereof is a precursor to REALLY bad news.  
  
I swallowed, and started, "Kiros, I think . . ."  
  
He interrupted. "She wasn't sent here on a mission, Laguna," he crossed his arms and leaned back. "What's up?"  
  
"Er . . ." I swallowed.  
  
Listen, I tell Kiros and Ward everything. They ask, I tell, that's the end of it. We're like brothers, only not as much fighting with each other. Hell, we hadn't fought in years. Disagreed, sure, but never fought.  
  
But in all that time, I had never kept anything from them. Nope, never. Not by lying, not at all. But, if I told Kiros now everything that he wanted to know, I'd be betraying Quistis's trust. Trust is a valuable thing to have, sometimes more valuable than anything else.  
  
I couldn't tell Kiros, no . . . but would it change anything? By not telling him?  
  
"I'm going to tell the truth . . ." I swallowed and looked up, before looking Kiros in the eye. "I'm not comfortable with keeping things from you, Kiros, but I have no choice on this one. It's personal business of Quistis's, not mine."  
  
I held my breath.  
  
Kiros looked at me levelly, and nodded. No words, nothing, but he understood. Yeah, sappier than a Hallmark card, but there really wasn't much else Kiros could do.  
  
We shared companionable silence for the rest of the evening.  
  
As I walked into my temporary rooming that night, I had time to really think about what had happened.  
  
Quistis had . . . well . . . dammit, the woman had turned me on. . . what else was there to think about?!  
  
And I realized . . . I hadn't felt, well, you know, THAT WAY about a woman . . .  
  
. . . since Raine. . .  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Hey. I need an opinion here-should I begin to post up my FFVII fic? It's a Reno/Yuffie . . . but, if I begin to post it, it might cut into the progression of this one. Writer's Block isn't an issue; it's how fast I can type . . . notice how short my chapters are? There's a reason for that . . . namely, my unorthodox typing method.  
  
More reviewer responses. I already did some of you, so I won't repeat anyone I've replied before. Here's the lucky four-  
  
Crazy Rikku-Um . . . Thank you. You increased my review count considerably in one try. I'm glad you seem to like my story. . . and your personality is strangely similar to your namesake's.  
  
Renoa Heartilly-Oh, goody! We need more Quistis/Laguna's. So thank you for the praise, and if you DO write a fic, I'll be sure to review it. Good luck. (I'm always up for a good Seifuu, and I sense a lot of improvement between your first fics and your more recent ones)  
  
Klepto-maniac0-Just encouragement here, but that's what reviewers are for, hmm? Thank you, it's nice knowing people actually read my stuff . . . stuff . . . . stuff is a very convenient word . . . it refers to everything. . .  
  
PinkOpium-Living proof that anonymous reviewers aren't all bad. Thank you, and yes, these two are also my two favorite characters. They just happen to mesh so well.  
  
Next time, I'll just put up my five favorite reviewers, whether or not I've replied to them already or not. Keep my spirits up, folks, I need it. 


	13. not serendipity

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
OK, OK! The crappiness of the last chapter is bugging me! I REWROTE IT, and as an apology, I worked my butt off to get this chapter up early!! REREAD THE LAST CHAPTER PLEASE, there's a little something new in it!  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
There is a first time for everything, and for the first time in almost ages, I was completely and utterly lost.  
  
I was dressed, ready, armed and dangerous, and most unfortunately, hungry. And I had no idea where I was going to eat. My stomach growled impatiently, and I sighed. The alarm had mysteriously gone off a full hour late, so I didn't have the time to leave the residence for even a fast-food breakfast.  
  
These halls all looked the same! There was no difference in the halls here than by my rooms, and I'd been walking for what seemed like hours.  
  
I walked briskly in what I hoped was the general direction of Laguna's office, and tried to ignore the hunger pangs in my abdomen. My stomach wasn't used to going without meals this long.  
  
" . . . "  
  
I turned. Oh, thank Hyne, it was Ward. "Good morning, Ward." Well, it was morning at least . . . "Could you point me in the direction of Mr. Loire's office?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow at 'Mr. Loire' but managed to direct me further down the hall. I thanked him, and told him to get a good days rest for his night shifts.  
  
I still didn't see anything familiar. I sighed, and after checking the hall for witnesses, leaned against a door for support. Today was not my day. My 'To Do' list wasn't very long, or demanding. Apologize to Laguna, and preferably keep his neck and all assembled body parts intact.  
  
Another twinge in my side made me revise my list to include a meal in the near future.  
  
Why, why me? In the past week, I'd gone from overly depressed instructor to stressed bodyguard. How on Hyne's good earth had that happened?  
  
I frowned. I had tried to commit suicide, when Laguna pops up out of nowhere and saves me. Of course, he got us caught in a rockslide not even ten minutes after that, but . . . I had told him my darkest secrets, and in return, he had told me his. I had no obligation, but I helped Laguna with his problem anyway. So . . . a favor for a favor. Laguna had his son, I had my life.  
  
Why was I still here, then? What did I owe Laguna? Was I even doing this for Laguna, or was I doing this for my guilt?  
  
I didn't want to be doing this for guilt . . . so did that mean I wanted to be doing this for Laguna?  
  
. . . perhaps I shouldn't dwell on that thought.  
  
I let out an exhausted sigh. I had gotten plenty of sleep, but I obviously hadn't rested very well. . . . and I was lost in Laguna's behemoth of a house, and hungry to boot. Lost, hungry, and tired . . . at least I wasn't cold.  
  
The door I was leaning on gave a jerk; someone on the other end was trying to open it. I leapt forward, and tried to look as if I was supposed to be there.  
  
"Hey, Quistis, where've you been all morning?" I blinked. Laguna was grinning at me in his usual manner, cocky and blindly cheerful. "I couldn't find you, and Kiros said you'd be late . . ."  
  
"I am not late." I bristled instantly. I am a very punctual person; if I had been late to anything in Garden, I wouldn't have lived it down. I was tempted to hit myself, but Laguna just laughed.  
  
"Okay, okay, you're not late." He winked, and opened the door all the way. "Anyhoo, welcome to my new office!" He gestured inside.  
  
I immediately wracked my brain for the route I had taken to get here. I looked back at the hallway, and if Laguna hadn't of been there, I would have swore. There were no distinguishing features in this hall to discern it from the hundreds of other halls I had passed on the way.  
  
"Who's idea was this?" I asked. It was a flawless idea, getting Laguna out of his public office and to a place difficult to find. The hired guns wouldn't be able to find Laguna to shoot him. The only drawback was that I wouldn't be able to find it either.  
  
Kiros popped up. "My idea." He frowned. "Quistis, you're la-"  
  
"I'm not late," I snapped, while at the same time, Laguna exclaimed, "She's not late!"  
  
I felt a muscle in my face twitch as Laguna unsuccessfully tried to choke back his laughter. Personally, I normally despise it when people find humor at other people's expense, but Laguna seemed to make it perfectly acceptable.  
  
He looked at me, and if anything, his grin grew even wider. "Now, there's a sight I thought I never see!" I tilted my head as he continued, "Looks good on you!" He was still laughing as he headed inside.  
  
What on earth was he talking about?  
  
I followed, telling myself I'd worry about tomorrow just then: tomorrow. I passed by a mirror, and I stopped for just a moment to make sure of my appearance . . . it took a few seconds to realize the twitch in my face . . . was a smile.  
  
I was smiling? Well, this was a new development.  
  
Laguna held up a paper to me. "Hey Quistis, read through this, will ya? Its still gotta go through a bunch of lawyers to check for loopholes, but I'd like a third opinion." I took it and read over it silently.  
  
It was Laguna's revised version of the treaty. It was basically an extended trading rights agreement. Laguna was being extremely generous with this, but what Kiros had said the previous day was right: with Koryu Deling, it was all or nothing; he wouldn't take this.  
  
I shook my head. "I'm afraid this isn't my field of expertise, so my opinion isn't worth much . . . but though it seems flawless, President Deling isn't going to take it."  
  
"That's what I told him," muttered Kiros, slightly miffed. "But as usual, he isn't listening to me."  
  
Laguna looked up. "Sorry, Kiros, I didn't hear you. What was that?"  
  
"See?!" Kiros complained. Laguna laughed. "Hey, I listen, I just don't always do what you say."  
  
"Same difference." Kiros waved his hand diffidently, before his eyes widened in remembrance and he snapped his fingers. "Oh, and Laguna, you do realize that today is Saturday, right?"  
  
I looked up. What was so special about it being a Saturday?  
  
"Yeah . . . but I have too much work to do . . ." Laguna peered cautiously in my direction for about half a second. " . . . Besides, I don't think Quistis would appreciate me running around where every Tom, Dick, and Harry with a gun can shoot at me."  
  
"Hmm?" I narrowed my eyes. No one is going to shoot at Laguna Loire without facing serious repercussions. Or even more preferably, me.  
  
"See?" Laguna pointed out my expression hurriedly, "She wouldn't like it, and I'm not in the mood to piss Quistis Trepe off again, so . . ."  
  
"What, you've pissed her off before?" Kiros queried with a grin. "What exactly happens when Quistis Trepe gets pissed?"  
  
I shot a look at Laguna that I hoped was sufficiently threatening only to find he was still grinning asininely and paying no attention to me whatsoever. "Well," Laguna said cheerfully, "Whenever that happens, everything goes to hell in a hand-basket and-"  
  
"And I would appreciate a change of subject!" I sharply interrupted, already irritable from hunger. "Now, would you tell me exactly what I wouldn't appreciate?"  
  
"On Saturdays, Laguna runs around Esthar to talk to people, eat lunch, have fun, occasionally get drunk, and make a complete idiot of himself," Kiros flicked a pencil shaving into Laguna's hair, which Laguna sifted through grumpily to try and find. "But he enjoys it, so it's cool," Kiros added.  
  
Laguna would be the type of person to enjoy a carefree frolic around town. I wondered why such an active person such as Laguna, who enjoyed the outdoors and exploring so much, would allow himself to stay cooped up in this mansion.  
  
Obligation. Of course, I knew the restrictions of duty, but was Laguna's sense of duty as strong as mine? He seemed to enjoy his work, at least partially, and he used his unexplainable charisma to his best advantage, drawing even the coldest people to his side. . . including me.  
  
Laguna had drawn me in along with most everyone else he had met. He had a liveliness that he'd share with almost anyone who'd listen to him, and . . .  
  
"And he rules a global power with relative ease and enjoyment, and still can't find a wood shaving that's right over his head," I mused.  
  
Laguna looked up sharply, his not-so-tender search having left his hair sticking up outrageously. "Well, I've got a lot of hair . . ." Laguna stiffened as I reached out and smoothed his bangs, plucking the offending piece of wood in the process.  
  
"'Guna, you deserve a break, so whether you like it or not, you are going out this afternoon.," Kiros snatched the paper from Laguna's hands. "And Quistis can just go with you."  
  
Laguna protested, and I protested. Nevertheless, we were outside the residence and on the sidewalks in less than half an hour flat.  
  
I peered over at his, as he crossed his arms and tried to look annoyed. He wasn't, of course, but I let him think I believed him. He turned to me huffily, and asked "So . . . where do you want to go?"  
  
I tapped my foot on the pavement. Really, should he be asking me? "It's your afternoon out."  
  
He shrugged. "Yeah, but usually I let Kiros or Ward decide where to go." He looked over the skyline casually. "Tch, of course, we always end up somewhere else. My sense of direction kinda sucks," he grinned and turned back at me.  
  
I felt a bit disconcerted, with Laguna standing there and just . . . GRINNING. Yes, that's what Laguna does, but right at me? "I see," I said carefully.  
  
My stomach let out an especially large growl. I was tempted to wince, but I settled for blinking. Laguna looked up.  
  
"You hear that?" He swiveled his head around.  
  
Ah, no. Seething slightly at my untimely noise, I folded my hands in front of me. "Hear what?" I said calmly.  
  
Of course, it happened once more-even louder. He turned to me and tilted his head in query. I blinked and looked at Laguna, with only a slightly guilty look on my face. " . . . "  
  
He gave an aggravated sigh, and leaned forward so he was more at my eye level. " . . . Quistis, did you even HAVE breakfast?" he asked almost appallingly.  
  
I cleared my throat. "I had trouble finding you, I had no time." I flinched at the slightly shocked look he gave me  
  
"Aw, Hyne Quistis, think of yourself for a change!" He punched the air half- heartedly. "Be selfish!" He paused, and winked at me as he reached out and grabbed my wrist. "And I could do with a snack too; let's go eat!"  
  
I yelped slightly as his hold on my wrist tightened and he was dragging me through Esthar. I couldn't quite match his enthusiastic pace without running, and I stumbled slightly every few steps. "Where . . . where are we going?" I managed to get out.  
  
Laguna stopped suddenly, causing me to run into him. He scratched his head slightly. "I dunno. . ." I sighed. Of course . . . Laguna looked around and let out a triumphant sound. "How's that place sound?" He pointed at a small, dingy vendor's stand, with two small, dubious-looking but brightly colored tables.  
  
Not exactly a place the president of Esthar should be patronizing. But if Laguna really wanted to . . . "I suppose . . ." I ventured uncertainly, but before I could finish my sentence Laguna was dragging me off again, with me clumsily trying not to trip over Laguna's feet.  
  
"Cool! Lets go!" He positively beamed at the vendor, and rattled out his order of a hot dog with gusto.  
  
He seemed more cheerful than usual, which I had previously thought an impossible task. He was really quite happy today . . . Laguna enjoyed his job, and he was quite good at it, but perhaps he needed to take breaks a bit more often.  
  
Of course, he might not want to take breaks, and I realize that being any sort of leader did not involve you taking off and quitting for weeks on end just because you were lazy, but Laguna needed a week off. Perhaps when this was over with, I could . . .  
  
"Hey Quistis, whaddya want?" Laguna waved his hand in front of my face. "Hallloooo? You in there?"  
  
"Hmm?" I snapped out of thought. "Oh . . . I'd like the Sicilian pizza, please. . . " I chose an item at random from the ripped 'menu' taped above me.  
  
Before I could protest, Laguna slapped down some cash, motioned that the vendor keep the change, and hauled me and our meals to a table "Pizza?" he said as he set the food in front of me, stll slightly dazed from the rapidity of Laguna's actions. "And here I thought you were a salad kind of gal."  
  
I recovered and gingerly picked up the pizza, inspecting it. "Of course not. I need proteins to keep up my strength." I tapped the crumbs off the crust. "That's a vitamin that salads rarely have."  
  
I took a bite of the pizza, and felt my eyes widen slightly. This was surprisingly good, for something off the street in the middle of the city. I swallowed, and tentatively took another bite.  
  
"I guess so . . ." Laguna chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. "Hey Quistis, I meant to ask you."  
  
I waited until my mouth wasn't full before answering. "Ask me what?"  
  
"Well . . ." Laguna looked up, and put down his hot dog, looking me uneasily in the eye. "I talked to Squall the other day . . . and I need your opinion . . ."  
  
Oh. . . oh, no . . . I'd completely forgotten that I'd forced Squall to talk to Laguna, and that Laguna might need some help with that. I quashed a rising surge of self blame for the moment; I could deal with it later, but now Laguna needs me attentive, not guilt-wracked. "Yes?"  
  
He looked down, and then back at me. "Well . . . he was kinda angry at first . . . the whole abandonment thing got to him pretty bad . . .then I found out that Ellone showed him a few things that she wasn't supposed to show him . . ." He laughed harshly. "Hell, Elle wasn't even supposed to know about it."  
  
Ellone? She had known before I had, of course, but . . . "What?"  
  
"I went for him . . . once." He said quietly. I blinked. He had said something to the effect of this . . . but he hadn't put it quite so bluntly. He continued softly. "I found the orphanage and went after him. But when I saw him, I couldn't bring myself to claim him . . ." He looked down.  
  
I pushed my meal to one side. "Can you tell me why?" I asked, leaning forward slightly.  
  
Laguna lifted his head up, squinting at the sun silently. A few strands of his hair pulled free of his loose ponytail and danced around his profile, before he glanced at me. It was only a second before he stared back at his hands, but I saw something in that one look that pulled on something within my chest. He muttered, "Raine. . ."  
  
Raine. Of course. She had just died, and he probably hadn't wanted to remember her yet. . . and no doubt he'd returned when he was ready, to find Squall gone to his new home. Garden. He had loved Raine . . . he probably still did. "Oh . . ." I replied, not sure what exactly to say.  
  
Laguna's hands fidgeted. "He saw me there, and . . . well . . ." I watched as Laguna's features took a heavy cast. I paused, and tapped his arm softly, forcing him to look up at me.  
  
"Don't worry, Laguna." I said softly. I blinked at my tone of voice, before changing it to continue. "Squall's as stubborn as they come, but he has enough sense not to look a gift horse in the mouth."  
  
Laguna snorted. "So did the Trojans, supposedly . . . look where they went. . . "  
  
He slumped over, staring at his half-eaten hot dog gloomily. I wasn't sure for quite some time what to say. Just five minutes ago he had been traipsing about, dragging me around Esthar to find me something to eat.  
  
Now he just looked depressed. I really wasn't used to seeing Laguna depressed; I'd seen Squall, Irvine, even Zell like this, but hardly ever Laguna. I'm not a parent, how am I supposed to empathize with this? Does he even want pity?  
  
I knew how it felt to be depressed. I never wanted pity from anyone. No matter what happens to me, I never want anyone to pity me for anything. So I hid my emotions to spare that. Yet Laguna was sitting here, slumped over, looking so broken, I couldn't help BUT pity him.  
  
I don't want to have to pity Laguna.  
  
So why was Laguna acting like this?!  
  
I stood abruptly, slamming my palm upon the table, glaring at Laguna. He jumped, looking around him slightly dazedly, before looking at me confusedly.  
  
"Laguna Loire, listen to me," I almost hissed. "Squall WILL come around, you ARE going to live to see your grandchildren, and . . ." I hesitated, not having thought ahead enough to think of a third thing to say, "you ARE going to enjoy this lunch."  
  
"Er . . ." Laguna looked like he was going to say something, but thought better of it.  
  
"That's an order." I snapped.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
What? Okay, how did Quistis get mad all the sudden? I knew she worried about me on some weird, obligatory level, but seriously folks, let's think back: I buy her lunch, depend on her advice, pour my heart out to her, and outta nowhere she gets ticked off.  
  
And she actually was showing something on her face besides that dumb frigid mask of hers! Her body language practically reeked of 'pissed woman.'  
  
If anything, I was shocked out of my bad mood.  
  
Then it registered. She'd given me an order. Order? Huh? "I thought I was the superior!"  
  
Quistis blinked, and sat back down, if kinda bashfully. "Well . . . yes, you are . . ."  
  
I poked at her with my hot dog, the promise of a debate lifting me up slightly. "So . . . you're ordering me around . . . why?"  
  
Quistis sighed, and said in a monotonous voice, "I'm a bodyguard. My duty is to your well-being." Right, what you wanna bet she learned that phrase at some thing in Garden?  
  
I tapped the table diffidently, trying to turn this to my advantage. "Okay, Quistis, I'll make a deal with you." I said cheerfully. "I forget everything for a day, and you answer me a question."  
  
Quistis looked slightly annoyed. Yeah, either way it was a winning situation for me, huh? "Fine," she said grudgingly, pulling herself back into her posture.  
  
Well, I'd been wondering. I had my theory, of course, but it really wasn't the same as hearing it from Quistis myself. I mean, assuming things was almost always the downfall of all those famous dead generals you hear about. I leaned over, as serious as all hell, and spoke calmly, "Why are you here?"  
  
Quistis frowned. "Hmm?" Her eyes narrowed slightly.  
  
I shook my head. "Why are you here?" Pausing, I got more detailed. "You seem so stubborn about saving my neck here, why? I have a feeling it isn't just because of my charm and good looks."  
  
Quistis quietly finished off her pizza with a final bite. "Logic."  
  
"Huh?" What did she mean by that?  
  
She adjusted her glasses, delicately tipping the frames up the bridge of her nose. "Normally, you'd call on SeeD to help you right?" I noticed her tone was very slightly clipped. Well, I guess she was still kinda ticked. . .  
  
I nodded. "Yeah, but-"  
  
She ignored me. "And for a VIP such as you, they'd send an extremely skilled team. The odds are high that one might have been me." Yeah, her tone was definitely not happy. It didn't sound like backwash, either . . . what'd I done now?  
  
I still tried to get what she was saying, but didn't succeed. I started again, "So, you-"  
  
"However, I pressed you into telling Squall about your parental status. That made all negotiations with SeeD impossible. I'd be here anyway, now I'm just getting paid a bit less." She inspected her hands. "And I have enough money set aside for years, so it's a non-issue. So, Mr. Loire, if you're trying to convince me to leave, it's not going to work."  
  
WHAT? She didn't seriously think I wanted her to go, did she?!?!  
  
Oh, Hyne, how did THAT happen? I thought she was . . . Laguna, you idiot, she was SUICIDAL a few days ago! Don't forget that, she isn't exactly gonna get over that in a few days! She still feels worthless and stuff, why the hell am I making things worse?!  
  
Dammit, you stupid, moronic, brainless bastard, I do NOT want Quistis to think I want her gone!  
  
I spoke immediately, all that stuff going through my head. "HEY! I wasn't trying to make you-"  
  
Quistis avoided eye contact with me. "So stick to your end of the deal, Mr. Loire, and enjoy yourself." How the hell did she expect me to enjoy myself when she herself was feeling like crap?!  
  
I stood, shocked, practically knocking over the table. "It's Laguna, not 'Mr. Loire' and-"  
  
She kept on going, ignoring me completely. "If you'd prefer, I can-"  
  
I didn't prefer ANYTHING! Actually, yeah, I 'd prefer if she stayed! "DAMMIT Quistis, I WASN'T trying to chase you OFF!"  
  
She looked up, startled. I actually didn't realize I'd said that one part out loud for a few seconds. But yeah, she deserved to be startled! Maybe I'd shock some sense into her!  
  
"I was just asking WHY, dammit, because I can't figure it out!" I seethed. "Do you really have that little faith in those who actually give a damn about you?!" I gestured vehemently, "To hell with it, Quistis, I consider you a friend even if you don't like it, so would you just stop OVEREACTING!?"  
  
Quistis looked slightly stunned for about half a second, before she closed her mouth and looked down  
  
Great . . . I was just ranting at myself because her self esteem was low, and then I go and yell at her. Perfect, just plain peachy. "Aw man, I shouldn't have yelled . . ."  
  
I sat back down sheepishly. The vendor was giving us funny looks, but I really didn't care. At least he didn't recognize me, THAT'D be awkward.  
  
I didn't look at Quistis, and we just sat there for awhile, in a semi- uncomfortable silence. Three customers for the hot dog stand came and went.  
  
"I see your point . . ." a voice said quietly. I looked up at Quistis, and she looked back, and said, " . . . and, I wouldn't mind at all being your friend."  
  
And she SMILED. Eyes rising with warmth, the sunlight reflected off of her perfect teeth while the rose of her lips contrasted stunningly with her skin. An amazing expression for her breath-taking features - and for none other than me? . . . that'd be twice in one day . . . and she wanted to be my friend?  
  
I grinned happily. "Huh? SERIOUSLY? That's so cool!" I was so tempted to run over and hug her, but hey, that'd just scare her off, so I settled for punching the air enthusiastically. "OH yeah!"  
  
Quistis sighed, and when she turned her head towards me again, the smile was gone. ". . . It seems," she said loftily, "I'm just one more victim to the infamous Loire charisma."  
  
I have infamous charisma? "What?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing." She waved her hand casually.  
  
. . .  
  
. . . that vendor was still staring at us funny . . .  
  
. . .  
  
Okay, the silence was killing me. I searched my head for a new topic. Um . . . "Have you talked to anyone since you got here?" Quistis looked at me strangely. "I mean, your friends back at Garden?"  
  
"No." She brushed her hands off, and inspected the area. "I really should check in with Irvine and Zell, they'll be worried. Selphie's probably absolutely hysterical right now."  
  
Selphie? Oh, right . . . her . . . that annoyingly perky one . . ."Selphie scares me . . ." I shuddered.  
  
Quistis's eyebrow raised in good humor. "Well, I suppose that has to do with her running about, ranting on about 'Sir Laguna and his dreaminess.'"  
  
What? Dreaminess? "Er . . ."  
  
She moved her hand in a placating gesture. "Don't worry, Irvine's a bit closer to home for her, so you're safe." She tilted her head, and her tone was amused. "And Squall wouldn't be stupid enough to send her on a mission anywhere near Esthar."  
  
"Thank Hyne . . ." I muttered . . . now that Elsie girl creeped me out even more. "Er . . . 'dreaminess'?"  
  
"I have no idea what goes through Selphie's mind. . ." Quistis said lightly, before blinking, and speaking once more. "We really shouldn't talk about her behind her back."  
  
Ack . . . right. Well, I did enough of it in politics; I'd forgotten it was rude with people. "Yeah, I'm sure she has a couple good qualities . . . um," I wracked my brain for a positive comment. " . . . she's very bouncy."  
  
"And good at infiltration." Trust Quistis to think of her in fighting terms.  
  
I looked at Quistis, and asked, "Does that make her a good liar?"  
  
She frowned. "I suppose so, but in my opinion, that isn't a redeeming quality."  
  
Really? "You're just saying that because you can't lie," I joked, crumpling up the wrapper of my hot dog and tossing it in the trash can.  
  
The corner of her mouth twitched. "Perhaps."  
  
Heh . . . I grinned. "That was a yes, wasn't it?"  
  
Quistis opened her mouth, before giving up and succinctly, but good- naturedly, saying " . . . Damn."  
  
I blinked. Twice. Cause I mean, Quistis, cussing? Whoa. "Whoa!! You cussed! Seriously, you cussed!"  
  
She shot me a glare, but even with her normally passive face, I could tell she was annoyed. "I have before," she said calmly.  
  
"But . . ." Yeah, she had, but only under seriously extreme conditions. ". . . this is different! You so cussed!" I crowed, poking her arm.  
  
"Hey, you two." I swiveled. Kiros, I thought he was looking over stuff back at the Residence? He winked at me blatantly. "So, how's your date?"  
  
Huh? DATE? Kiros was kidding, right? Me, Quistis, date? "Whaaa?! Kiros, it's NOT a date!" er . . . was it? I turned to Quistis nervously. She was cool as usual, but she looked slightly distressed.  
  
"A purely platonic meal, I assure you," she tagged to the end of my sentence. He - ey, was that a blush on the affable Quistis's face?  
  
I frowned at Kiros. "Yeah, she didn't have time for breakfast, so we stopped for some food." Come on, Kiros, drop it.  
  
"Suuure, whatever you guys say." Kiros took on an unbelieving tone before smiling and asking, "Anyway, so what'd I miss?"  
  
I grinned widely. "Quistis cussed!" Yup! It's a miracle, a providence, a message from Hyne!  
  
Kiros grinned just as wide as I did. "Whoa." Turning to Quistis, then me, he gloated. "You cussed? Seriously, she cussed?"  
  
Quistis's now evident blush deepened. I chuckled as she cleared her throat and stood. "Well . . . I enjoyed the meal, Laguna, but I need to make a phone call. Kiros?" She gave a glance to him.  
  
Kiros winked at her. "Like a hawk."  
  
"Good," she said succinctly, if a bit distantly, as she gathered herself to leave. "I'll see you two later." She shook her head, and we said good-bye as she walked back in the direction of the mansion.  
  
I waited until Quistis was out of ear shot, before narrowing my eyes at him. "Kiros, what do you think you're doing?" I hissed.  
  
Of course, Kiros didn't seem to care that I was mad. Grr. "Aww, mad that I interrupted your date?" he teased, picking up what was left of Quistis's drink and leisurely sipping at it.  
  
"It wasn't a date!" I repeated petulantly. Kiros smirked.  
  
OK, yeah, now Kiros was TRYING to piss me off. Kiros is a master of manipulating emotions, and I get duped every time. Like, say, NOW for instance.  
  
I banged my fist on the table and changed my tone. "Kiros, stop playing matchmaker, OK?" Kiros put on an innocent look. Yeah, buddy, like I'll fall for that for the millionth time. "I have enough problems without feeling weird around Quistis."  
  
Kiros struggled to keep up his facial expression, but lapsed into a sigh. "I don't get how she keeps her face so straight all the time. . ." he muttered.  
  
I brightened. "Nah, she doesn't, you just gotta look real hard. When she's happy, her eyes kinda narrow and crinkle a bit, and she blushes easy." Kiros looked at me pointedly, and I blinked a few times before glaring back.  
  
Eh heh . . . I won the staring contest. Kiros fell back with a sigh, and looked like he wanted to rub his temples like he did when he was tired, but he didn't, saying, "Fine, fine . . ." He looked at me, his mouth setting in a serious line. ". . . just so you know, Raine wouldn't want you like this."  
  
Raine? Where? "Huh?"  
  
"Alone, Laguna," Kiros explained patiently. "She wouldn't want you alone. If your situations were reversed, would you want her to spend all her time moping about you for twenty years?"  
  
If Raine were alive, I wouldn't mind being dead for her and Squall's sake at all. Actually, I'd want her to forget me altogether, to find someone worthy of her. So she'd be able to find the perfect, serious guy that she deserved.  
  
But Raine . . . what would she want? I had no trouble envisioning her in ivory wings resting on a cloud, but I couldn't picture exactly what her mouth was saying. Something pulled in my heart, like a string twanging . . .  
  
And I opened my mouth, and said . . .  
  
"I know, Kiros." It came out wearily, but so determined that I wondered where I'd gained that voice.  
  
I stared at the table, and looked back up at Kiros, who was smiling in his most pleasant way.  
  
"Okay, Laguna." Kiros got up, and as he headed off, shouted behind him, "Just making sure."  
  
I grinned at nothing in particular . . .  
  
The vendor was still looking at me funny.  
  
I gave him a big tip.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
My longest chapter yet! I don't know what possessed me while I wrote this, I never write something this long in one sitting! Of course, I did have all morning . . . and afternoon . . . such a wonderful use of a teacher's break day, ne?  
  
I actually like this chapter! I got the dialogue, right, and I SUCK at dialogue (cough chapter three cough). Still though, bonding chapters are so boring . . . I wrote this while listening to Metallica's 'Carol of the Bells' with the Trans Siberia Orchestra. I had something in mind for this chapter, and although I didn't get the mood I was looking for, I did get the general bits.  
  
And there won't be any Datura poisoning for some time yet, so calm down!  
  
(If you didn't understand that, it's an inside joke. Datura, also known as moonflower, is an extremely poisonous plant. Symptoms of Datura poisoning include fever, dizziness, dry mouth, dilated pupils, flushed skin, rapid pulse and delirium . . . note, all of these can be symptomatic of . . .other things . . . eh heh) 


	14. unconscious wish

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
'Someone who thinks they're no good will someday try harder than anyone else, not wanting to lose anymore. One day, you'll know what to do, and when you do, you'll throw yourself at it with more enthusiasm and skill than anyone else. That will be an important day when you shine, my star, and I want to be there to see it.'  
  
'So, you don't think I'm important now?'  
  
'Important things are rare and valuable. You are both.'  
  
Just a bit of wisdom I overheard. I think it's too good not to share.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Ruefully, I sighed as I rubbed my temple. Why was I here, really? I shook my head and stared at the door to Laguna's rooms. I did have to go in eventually. And it wasn't as though I was intruding on his property; I'd been in there before . . . of course, then I had Laguna's knowing consent.  
  
Why was it such a dilemma to me? Yes, I was a woman, and had responded to Laguna as a woman should. Laguna, after all, was reasonably attractive . . . far more attractive than he should be, certainly . . . that wasn't a good enough explanation, not to me. I never reacted in such a fashion to anybody.  
  
Steeling my emotions and my breath, I opened the door to Laguna's rooms with a caustic sort of determination. There probably wasn't much to search for, but it was SeeD protocol. And so, search I must.  
  
I had told Kiros and Laguna that I had a phone call to make. I frowned. Since when had I become such a dishonest person? I could keep a secret, and was trustworthy, but never in my life had I had to lie to keep my tongue. Well, saying I had to make a phone call wasn't an entire lie, because I did want to check up with everyone, but . . .  
  
Most of the rooms were, in fact, untouched by the grenades detonation. Hopefully, Laguna would be reinstated in these rooms by the end of the week, but the repairs hadn't started just yet. I peered around the dark, abandoned apartment, wondering why it felt so empty. It hadn't felt like this last night at all.  
  
I made my way to the bedroom, which was still marked off by a 'do not cross' ribbon. I stepped over it. Clues, hints, something useful. Perhaps something to track the employer of the assassin.  
  
I knelt by the window, sifting through the mess delicately as my mind drifted elsewhere.  
  
A date. Kiros had said it was a date, and even by my standards, it fit the bill. We were alone, Laguna had paid the tab, we'd had a serious conversation . . . even though the conversation established only friendship, I was still uncomfortable with the idea.  
  
Laguna was Squall's father, despite whatever feelings of denial Squall might be feeling. . And I was like Squall's sister, even if not legally or by blood. So honestly, it being a date was out of the question in every possible respect. Theoretically, anyway . . .  
  
Did I want it to be a date? My rational voice told me no, that any emotional involvement was impossible. You can't love, it's impossible, your heart is broken.  
  
Remember?  
  
Yes, I remember. You really expected me to forget, oh consciousness of mine?  
  
I ignored the other voice altogether. Why listen to it, when no doubt it would merely trouble me more? Besides, I shouldn't be listening to little voices in my head anyway. Whatever it was telling me I promptly shoved into the far recesses of my mind, hopefully to be banished by the power of my GF's and sheer will.  
  
My hand hit something, and I frowned. A phone. I gaped at the flashing green light; the phone had survived the blast? Not impossible, but it was still surprising.  
  
I frowned at the phone.  
  
I did have to make a phone call.  
  
A second later, I found myself dialing the number of Irvine's room. I could have dialed Selphie's, but she'd overreact, as would Rinoa and Zell. Squall was certainly out of the question, due to possibility of massacre, and last time I'd checked, Xu had been on a mission. So, Irvine it was.  
  
The dial tone rang, and I patiently waited for the other line to pick up. If Irvine wasn't there, as I strangely hoped he wasn't, I'd have to leave a message.  
  
The line clicked. "Howdy. Kinneas here." Irvine drawled across the line. I gave a wry twisting of lips at his accent; he always over exaggerated it over the phone.  
  
"Irvine, hello," I said warmly. "How are you?"  
  
"QUISTIS?" His accent toned down considerably, and I shook my head. He continued anxiously, "We worried, where are you?"  
  
"No need to worry." I evaded his inquiry on my location. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."  
  
"Doesn't stop us from worrying," Irvine grumbled, and and after a slight rustling on the other end of the line, his tone changed to serious. "Where are you again?" he asked almost casually. I twitched, of course Irvine wouldn't be deterred.  
  
"I'm . . . in . . ." I faltered; really, I hate lying, but perhaps telling him where I was wasn't such a good idea. 'I'm in Laguna Loire's bedroom, where just last night, the president of Esthar got me hot and bothered.' Oh yes, I can just see the resulting chaos.  
  
" . . . Deling?" I finished, wincing at the way I'd made it sound like a question.  
  
"No, you're not," Irvine replied smugly. In the same matter-of-fact voice, he continued as if he knew me all too well. And he did, dammit. "Deling doesn't appeal to you. You wouldn't be able to spend two days there without finding something else to do."  
  
Well, then, the half truth? "Irvine, I don't think you should know . . ." I twitched as he interrupted.  
  
"Aww, come on," he whined, putting on his pleading voice. If he were here, no doubt he'd put on those irresistible puppy-eyes that Selphie had fallen in love with. He paused, and teased, "Where's the worst possible place you could be?"  
  
I snorted. "The Estharian Presidential Residency, courtesy of Laguna Loire." Well, I was certainly blunt today.  
  
Irvine laughed. "Yeah, that'd be pretty bad, Squall'd probably . . ." he trailed off, finally registering my frank tone. " . . . oh, shi . . ." he whispered, before practically shouting in my ear. " . . . you're WHERE?"  
  
"Calm down, Irvine," I soothed hurriedly, hoping no one on the other end heard his outburst, "it's a temporary arrangement, I assure you."  
  
"Doesn't change the facts any, Quisty. You are in it deep," he said almost admirably, and partially annoyed. "What exactly are you DOING there?" he demanded, obviously slightly confused.  
  
I adjusted my glasses. "You HAVE heard of the assassination attempts, yes?" Irvine made a noncommittal sound, that I interpreted as I yes. "I'm trying to keep Squall's father alive until Squall gets his head out of the sand." I made a sound of my own, tilting towards a disgusted tone  
  
Irvine was silent for a few seconds. "You . . . you took a job outside SeeD sanctioning?! What are you thinking?!" He sputtered, the background noises on the other side suggesting him jerking out of his seat.  
  
I tutted. "Actually, no. The rules state that I can't accept a salary outside SeeD, and this," I wryly added in a darkly sarcastic tone, "is all being done out of the goodness of my heart." My theoretical heart, mind you. . .  
  
Irvine breathed out in relief. "Quistis, you and your damn loopholes . . . you scared the crap outta me. . ." He muttered in what he managed to make into a pissed, yet fond note. Then his tone changed drastically, into an eager, humorous tone, as if telling a joke " . . .and speaking of those assassinations, you wouldn't believe what happened yesterday."  
  
"Try me." I said wryly. Normally, I wouldn't stand for Irvine pitiful attempts at humor, but anything that had to do with the assassinations had a possible connection to the situation. Well, actually, it had a direct connection to the situation.  
  
Irvine cleared his throat, and started. "Well, the headmaster went up to Squall and I and wanted us to take on a mission from an anonymous employer." He paused, waiting for a response.  
  
"That's not uncommon," I said, knowing there was more to the story.  
  
Irvine snorted happily. "Yeah, well I opened up my briefing folder, and guess what? It was an order of assassination." I inhaled sharply. "Target: Laguna Loire, President of-"  
  
"WHAT?" Squall had gotten a mission to kill Laguna?!  
  
I was Laguna's unofficial bodyguard. Would I have to fight Squall? Squall was one of my dearest friends, one of my companions in everything. My brother. I couldn't possibly bring myself to fight him, even for Laguna's sake . . . or maybe only for Laguna's sake . . .  
  
What was I thinking!?  
  
Besides, in a battle between he and I, I would lose. Squall was, in borrowed words, 'a damn good fighter.' I, in my own words, wasn't.  
  
"He didn't take it, did he?" I breathed, panicked.  
  
"Hey hey, calm down!" Irvine sensed my agitation. "Don't get your panties in a twist." He took a breath. "Squall took one look at the folder and opened it. He read the first three words, and his face just kinda fell into that moody, depressed bit he gets when he's thinking too hard." Irvine was deliberately winding me up for this, wasn't he?  
  
He continued. "Well, it took him about five seconds for him to decide whatever he was thinking, because he literally got pissed. He grabbed my mission folder, and ripped both of 'em in half. Then he stepped right up to Cid, and told the old man something to the effect of being forced to decapitate anyone who took that mission."  
  
What?  
  
Oh . . . oh my.  
  
I sat down on the remnants of Laguna's bed unconsciously as I absorbed that. Just a few days ago, Squall would have leapt at that opportunity with relish. . . "Yeah," Irvine continued, blissfully oblivious to my reaction. "Cid wasn't too happy, but I think he got the picture after Squall waved his gunblade around a bit."  
  
That last part snapped me out of whatever daze I was in. "Squall threatened the Headmaster!?" I shrieked, my glasses going askew as I practically fell of my seat.  
  
"Yup, that about covers it." Irvine's voice was definitely pleased at the reaction he'd gotten from me. He always did like being overdramatic about things, he enjoyed people's reactions to him.  
  
Well, he'd certainly gotten a reaction from me. I was in a minor state of shock.  
  
"Oh . . .oh my . . . I murmured into the receiver, before shaking my head and answering, "So things with Squall are improving . . ." I twitched, and tagged on ". . . in a fashion."  
  
Irvine laughed lightly. "Not quite. He hasn't told us yet that Laguna is his father, so technically, we don't know. I did corner him after that, but he fed me some bullshit and stomped off to give himself more wrinkle lines."  
  
Hmm, really? Irvine went on. "But yeah, it was a shock for us too. So, how are things with you?"  
  
"Perfectly fine," I said, and remembered that Kiros had needed Laguna for something or he wouldn't have looked for us, and I needed to know what it was. I cleared my throat, and said regretfully, "I can't really talk for much longer. This isn't even my phone."  
  
"Who's phone is it?" Irvine queried. I could picture the questioning tilt of his head.  
  
"It's Laguna's private line," I said absently, attempting to get off the ruined bed without disturbing the rubble. "I'm only using it because it was closest."  
  
"Loire's private line was closest?" Irvine was grinning over the line, though what for I couldn't imagine. I sighed exasperatedly as I picked around a charred piece of wood.  
  
"Well, it's not as if he's using it," I said impatiently. "This place is still a mess after last night."  
  
Irvine barked out a short burst of laughter before stifling it, and his voice was thick with suppressed mirth as he answered. "Last . . .night?" he choked out, his ever present grin obvious by his tone.  
  
"Yes, last night," I snapped, and then I froze.  
  
I shouldn't blame him, really. He was, after all, Irvine Kinneas, consummate ladies man, and as a result of that, owner of an inherently dirty mind. However, just the fact that he was implying a relationship between Laguna and I made me snap.  
  
"IRVINE KINNEAS, get your mind OUT of the GUTTER!" I yelled, my free hand balling into a fist. "I am NOT sleeping with Laguna Loire."  
  
Irvine just laughed harder, to my annoyance. I huffed into the line, and Irvine finished with a dry chuckle.  
  
"Why Quistis," He goaded in a strangely relaxing and soothing tone, "what do you mean? I never said anything. You thought of that all by your lonesome. Hey . . .do you sleep on your stomach?"  
  
I relaxed at the strangely sudden and unexpected change of subject. "Well, no."  
  
"Does Laguna?"  
  
"What. . . IRVINE!"  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Damn.  
  
I tapped the desk with my pen nervously. Well, not much to be nervous about, but whenever my thoughts turned to Quistis lately, I got nervous. And Kiros's droning on about more political was really getting on my nerves.  
  
"Laguna! This is important!" He barked at me.  
  
"Why?" I said sullenly, not really having listened to him at all.  
  
"Because," he said impatiently, "this might be the support we need to get Galbadia off our backs!"  
  
" . . . " Ward stood silently in the corner.  
  
"An alliance with Dollet, the puniest country in the world?" I looked at Kiros incredulously. Yeah, a big fat help that was.  
  
"It shows we're getting serious about world involvement!" Kiros exploded, and I braced myself for his inevitable rant.  
  
"That we aren't afraid to join in international affairs!" Kiros paced across the room and back, muttering to himself, before turning to me once more. "If we allied with Timber and Trabia as well, we'd have the three biggest enemies of Galbadia on our side, just LOOKING for a reason to rag on their ass!"  
  
Ah. Ragging on Galbadia's ass. That sounded fun. "Okay, sounds good."  
  
Kiros opened his mouth to argue, and realized I'd agreed with him. He shook his head ruefully. "You're too open minded. Anyone else would have kept arguing just for the sake of being right."  
  
"Hey, being right is over rated," I explained. "People'll just think you have all the answers."  
  
"Is that so bad?"  
  
I shrugged. "It is if you don't."  
  
He looked at the ceiling balefully. "In a way, that was really deep."  
  
"It impresses the ladies."  
  
"No comment."  
  
"Good for you."  
  
Kiros grinned for a second, before turning serious. "Back to the problems at hand. You really think Dollet's a good idea?"  
  
"Yup." I stopped tapping my pen, and aimed it at a map on the wall. It hit the center of Dollet with a reasonably loud thunk.  
  
Kiros casually looked at the quivering pen in the map. "Show off. Dollet it is."  
  
"Sure thing." I yawned. Okay, so tomorrow instead of doing other stuff, I'd be doing other stuff enroute to Dollet. At least I'd get to ride the Apocalypse. So cool.  
  
Kiros head snapped to the right at a harsh ringing sound, and ran over to check a security panel on the wall  
  
"Um . . . Laguna?" Kiros leaned over the monitor, and clicked a few times.  
  
"Yeah?" I swiveled in my chair.  
  
Kiros frowned. "Quistis is using your phone."  
  
"So?" I yawned. "She said she had to make a phone call."  
  
"Laguna," he said, only slightly condescendingly, and very impatiently. "She's USING . . . YOUR . . . PHONE." He emphasized each word with a slight tilt of his head.  
  
"Huh?" As in MY phone? "My phone got decked."  
  
"Nope. Quistis is using it. . ." Kiros stopped suddenly, and visibly winced.  
  
Wait a sec. That was a secure line. That was MY secure line, dammit. " . . . " I glared at Kiros. If it was secure, than how the hell did he know it was being used?  
  
"It's supposed to be a secure line, Kiros." I sniffed at Kiros. I didn't really mind, I told Kiros whenever I got a phone call anyway. . . it was just the principle of the thing.  
  
"Supposed to be, yeah . . ." Kiros looked uncomfortable.  
  
"Kiros, just HOW secure is it?" I asked in a serious voice  
  
"To anyone but me, untraceable, untrackable, and unrecordable."  
  
"Anyone but you, huh?"  
  
"Yup." Kiros faltered, and looked extraordinarily guilty. Hah, Kiros, you are so gullible sometimes! Not that I can talk, sure, but it was still kind funny.  
  
And he thought I was serious about being mad at him. I grinned widely, unable to keep it in. "And to think I trusted you!" I dramatically put my hand to my forehead, flinging my arm out in false shock. Kiros blinked, and laughed.  
  
" . . . so, how about it?" Kiros grinned as widely as me. How about what?  
  
Huh? "Er . . . what?" I shifted. Kiros had his evil gleam. See, when Kiros is about to do something he shouldn't, he gets this twitch in his eye, almost like the hypothetical angel on his shoulder is tugging on his bottom eyelid. The little angel's attempts are almost always in vain.  
  
Poor little guy.  
  
Kiros grinned wider. "You know. . . listen in on Quistis's phone conversation."  
  
I blinked. Well, hell yeah, I wanted to! But there's this little voice in the back of my head, damn annoying little thing. You know what it said?  
  
'She trusts you.'  
  
"Quistis trusts me," I said slowly.  
  
Kiros raised his eyebrows. "To my knowledge, you haven't done much to earn her trust."  
  
"To your knowledge," I muttered glumly. Kiros leaned forward.  
  
"You know, you don't have a say in this," he said quietly. "I have to listen to it, eventually. It's a security issue."  
  
"I trust Quistis." I said immediately.  
  
"So do I. Don't ruin my fragile attempt at an excuse to listen in."  
  
I gaped like a fish for a bit longer. "Kiros, you are very uncool."  
  
"That's as close to a yes as I'm gonna get." Kiros's finger flew across the keyboard, and the conversation filtered up out of the speakers.  
  
"*Howdy. Kinneas here.*"  
  
"*Irvine, hello. How are you?*"  
  
I scowled. Quistis sounded a little too happy to hear from this Kinneas guy. I listened to the short exchange of information unhappily, until Kiros shifted warningly. Did he sense something in the conversation? My ears perked up as Kiros leaned forward.  
  
"* . . . headmaster went up to Squall and I and wanted us to take on a mission from an anonymous employer,*" Kinneas was saying in an all-too- cocky drawl. "* . . . I opened up my briefing folder, and guess what? It was an order of assassination. Target: Laguna Loire, Pres-*"  
  
Kiros jerked up, and Ward's weight shifted.  
  
My voice was joined with Quistis's in a resounding "WHAT?"  
  
I snapped my mouth shut as Quistis continued frantically. "He didn't take it, did he?" I couldn't help but notice her worried tone with certain . . . satisfaction.  
  
"*Hey hey, calm down! Don't get your panties in a twist.*"  
  
Kiros took out a pen and started scribbling on a piece of paper as Kinneas went on. "*Squall took one look at the folder and . . . grabbed my mission folder, and ripped both of 'em in half. Then he stepped right up to Cid, and told the old man something to the effect of being forced to decapitate anyone who took that mission.*"  
  
I blinked. Kiros stared at the speakers, and crumpled up and threw away the piece of paper he was scribbling on.  
  
What? Squall had defended me? I sat down . . . I'd been standing? . . . and thought. Hard.  
  
Did that mean that Squall, even if he hadn't accepted me, accepted the fact that I was his father? By blood, at least, if not by much of anything else? I winced. By nothing else, really. . .  
  
"Laguna!" Kiros shook me out of my reverie. "Listen!"  
  
There wasn't much else of political or personal interest in the phone call.  
  
But still, by the end of the half hour's time it took to finish listening to the innuendo-spiked conversation between Irvine Kinneas and Quistis Trepe, everyone in the room was leaning over the computer speakers.  
  
Ward was silent as usual, but smiling faintly.  
  
Kiros was laughing insanely.  
  
I had a nosebleed.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Hah! Nosebleed! My goal was a very casual, utterly boring, and merely space filling chapter that's a precursor to the action-packed, fluffy marvel that is chapter 15. . . well, er . . . chapter 15 isn't written yet . . . but I have so much planned for it, it'll prolly spill over to chap 16.  
  
Such a short chapter . . . and no character interaction between Quistis and Laguna . . .How cruel I must seem! But, it's crucial for the flimsy excuse of a plotline I have in mind. And I did cut out some of what Irvine said while Laguna was listening in; I figured you wouldn't want to read it twice.  
  
Irvine is such a great character. So adaptable to any position you might want to use him for. He can be angsty, the misunderstood loner pining for something beyond a physical relationship, or he can be happy, the flirtatious cowboy winging it through life with a smile.  
  
Thus, I've decided to make him a bigger character in the story . . . if only to get Laguna jealous. Heh heh.  
  
"Now there sits a man with an open mind. I can feel the draft from here." -Groucho Marx 


	15. halfway flight

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
My parents suck. All three of them, I swear. My mother is some slut-ho who lives with her boyfriend (who is twenty odd years older than her) my father does nothing but drool at the computer all day (occasionally at some less than wholesome stuff), and my step-evil has no respect for my privacy and my art (including my writings, which she deleted almost the entirety of). Controlling bastards.  
  
. . . Ignore all that, I'm just venting. But my life sucks sometimes. Really.  
  
Anyhoo, in case you didn't catch the minor bit of plot last chapter, Laguna is heading to Dollet today. This makes this . . . day number what of my fic? Hmm. I forget. I'll count later.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Kiros was helping us carry luggage to the Apocalypse. I narrowed my eyes against the sunlight reflecting off Esthar's skyscrapers, and tucked a few messy wisps of hair behind my ears as I blinked against the sun. "I really do hope this trip is worth it," I said in a disapproving tone.  
  
I hadn't been consulted on this, nor even told about it until this morning. Of course, I would have agreed to it as well, but it was the principle of the thing. I hadn't had a say in the events. I shouldn't have felt so disgruntled; after all, I was only the bodyguard, but things that shouldn't be, usually are. Laguna had found out only just yesterday as well.  
  
He shifted my bag over to his other shoulder, adjusting the weight. I paused for Laguna as he caught up. "I CAN carry both bags, you know," he pointed out, reaching to take his suitcase as well.  
  
I sniffed. My duffel bag didn't contain many changes of clothes, but was bursting to the seams with my various bath oils and hair care products. This made it considerably heavier than Laguna's, which most likely consisted of a few pants and shirts thrown in haphazardly. So, Laguna was carrying my bag, but in turn, I was carrying his.  
  
I sped up out of his reach, looking back smugly. "Yes, I know, but I won't let you," I said lightly.  
  
Laguna pouted, and I turned away, slightly confused. That pout did strange things to my stomach, for some reason.  
  
Kiros made a noise under his breath, and Laguna tried to kick him in the shins without me noticing.  
  
I coughed. I supposed that teasing him was alright if it felt comfortable . . . of course, later I'd feel the inherent wrongness of it, but for now it felt perfectly all right. "Laguna, if you truly wish to harm Kiros, by all means, do so." I looked back at the two men casually. "It's merely my job to make sure he doesn't hit back."  
  
Laguna grinned happily and made a mock swing at Kiros. After a quick dodge, Kiros jogged up backwards, facing me, flinging his arms out wide. "Quistis, I'm hurt!" He clasped his hands dramatically over his heart. "Don't you love me?"  
  
Laguna tripped.  
  
I kept my face straight, but tapped my temple thoughtfully. "Hmm . . . let me think about that Kiros. . . no?" I raised an eyebrow lightly.  
  
Kiros grinned, his eye twitching strangely. "No? You got me right here, Quistis." He staggered, pretending to have been stabbed. "What about Laguna? Everybody loves Laguna!"  
  
I could hear Laguna swearing faintly under his breath as I blinked. Everybody loves Laguna indeed. "Well Laguna certainly is charismatic . . ." I mused. "And I certainly like him more than you."  
  
Kiros staggered even more heavily, and collapsed. "Ooooh . . . you got me . . . the biting wit of Quistis Trepe strikes once more!"  
  
Laguna aimed a not-so-light kick at Kiros while he was on the ground.  
  
I sighed. Laguna must have at least said something to Kiros about me, and my . . . situation. And Kiros was doing a horrible job of keeping to it. Either that, or Kiros was just clueless and Laguna was being over protective.  
  
I suspected the latter, but the former was equally probable . . . though, I did trust Laguna not to say anything too horribly incriminating. I did trust Laguna, period.  
  
Laguna and I walked onto the ramp into Apocalypse. Kiros handed Laguna the bag he was carrying.  
  
"Aren't you coming?" I queried.  
  
"Nah." Kiros grinned, and suddenly turned serious. "I get the job of keeping the country together in the rare moments of Laguna's absence." Sniffing with a look of great self sacrifice, he pouted. "But nobody LISTENS to me, and can't do anything fun."  
  
" . . . Fun?"  
  
"You know, bomb people and stuff. Both 'people' and 'stuff' being Galbadia." Kiros smiled. "Eh, more's the pity."  
  
I frowned. What had happened that I'd missed to make Laguna, Kiros and Ward dislike Galbadia so much? They had been loyal to the country at one point; after all, they had been in its military. I couldn't help but wonder, but I didn't think I should ask.  
  
Laguna took the bag before I could take it in his place. Laguna grinnd at me. "Hey, I gotta be the gentleman somehow." He leaned closer in, whispering, "It appeals to old people."  
  
Kiros snorted. "It appeals to all women in general. You wouldn't believe some of the letters he's gotten-"  
  
My back was turned to Laguna, but I did hear a small sound of protest as Kiros continued. "There was this one lady . . . well it might have been a guy too, actually, it was anonymous . . . OK, so there was this one person who wrote something to the effect of, and I quote, wanting Laguna's Laguna's 'hot, tight body.'"  
  
I gaped, and Kiros ignored me, frowning. "That 'tight' part makes me think it was a guy, but Laguna doesn't swing that way, so the poor man doesn't really stand a chance. . ."  
  
Horrible mental images. I shuddered, and as Laguna took retribution upon his best friend, I didn't make a single move to stop him. Served the man right for making me think of Laguna in such a connotation.  
  
Laguna hissed at Kiros, and Kiros, who was obviously used to such behavior, merely grinned and started to say something else. I turned away, my vocabulary failing me as I sought to come up with the proper word to voice my thoughts.  
  
I eventually settled on " . . .Ew."  
  
Laguna followed me onto the Apocalypse, ignoring the waving Kiros. I gave him a small wave back before turning a corner out of view. I let Laguna lead at this point. After all, it was his ship.  
  
"Ignore Kiros . . ." Laguna jogged up to me. "He's just . . . well . . . he's Kiros."  
  
I looked up crookedly. "I have half a mind to go back and . . ." I thought about it. " . . . do something about him. I have no earthly idea what I'd do, though."  
  
"Eh, you'd think of something," Laguna said confidently.  
  
He turned his head sharply to the right. "I gotta go activate the autopilot. The passenger cabin is right there, be back in a sec."  
  
I opened my mouth to complain that he shouldn't go anywhere without me or Kiros present - in this case, me - but he was already gone. I found my mouth in a peculiar twitch once more - but this time I didn't need a mirror to figure it out. I was frowning.  
  
I walked briskly in the cabin. I was identical to the Ragnarok's, and I could see Kiros and Ward talking through the large viewing window. I took a seat near the back and settled the bag that I was carrying near my ankles. The ship lurched eerily, and I tilted my head in the perceived direction of the cockpit.  
  
Kiros, still visible out the window, looked up fearfully. This, obviously, was not a good sign.  
  
I really hoped that Laguna knew what he was doing.  
  
Sighing gently, my trust - which was in this event undoubtedly misplaced - forced me to remain seated. But it didn't stop me, however, from buckling my seatbelt and firmly grasping the armrests at my sides.  
  
The Apocalypse rose liltingly, jerking, and I heard a loud painful scraping jarring the wall the my left. I winced as the scraping continued, echoing even in the carpeted cabins. The ship jerked back right, and I could practically discern the exact moment the auto-pilot kicked in.  
  
The Apocalypse righted itself, and rose cautiously, as if to admonish its careless pilot. I released a breath that, though I had been aware I was holding it, had been loathe to let go. I steady my hand briefly against my pounding chest as I stood once more.  
  
How had Laguna managed to sneak out that once if he was that horrible a pilot? I doubted that the Apocalypse had an autopilot course to Edea's old orphanage . . . or perhaps with Squall in mind, he did. I shook my head, deliberating to ask later, if at all possible.  
  
Laguna certainly was an enigma. He had more than one story to tell, more than enough for however many rainy days might lie in his future. His life was one of the few in the world that mattered, that still mattered, his name was one that would be remembered.  
  
Yet, this wasn't what drew people to his side. Not his fame, but LAGUNA. Laguna drew people to himself no matter what. He was gentle, clueless, and generally a hassle to look after, but when it came down to it, he could protect - and lead - with ease. Kiros and Ward had known this from the start, and followed him.  
  
I shook my head. When it came down to it, Laguna's story was intertwined with so many others, it was difficult to see if it would ever truly end. I did want to hear Laguna's stories.  
  
And who knew? Perhaps I might be there to hear him tell them. He is an excellent writer; his storytelling skills might be comparable.  
  
I was going to Dollet, with a venerable horde of assassins after my friend, and only me to guard him. I was sitting lone, with silence and the hum of engines as my only companions. Yet the world seemed brighter than it had just a second ago.  
  
I smiled. I might never know exactly why I was so content, sitting there alone on the Apocalypse, with nothing but a dubious future looming ahead. But the point of the matter was, I was smiling.  
  
And I was happy.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I walked towards the cabin guiltily. I mean, I'm not great with machinery, what can I say? I'd probably done another number on the paint job that Kiros would yell at me at. Or rather, since Ward was the one who handled the money issues, Kiros would yell at me on Ward's behalf.  
  
I froze at the doorway, wondering if I should hide from Quistis' wrath while I still had the chance. I mean, I'd seen her when she was ticked off at me, and when she went into her own cold brand of battle fury, I hadn't really seen Quistis really, truly mad before, and I had a feeling that I didn't ever want to.  
  
I peered around the doorway. Quistis was sitting sideways on an aisle chair, her profile facing me. I blinked.  
  
Even as I watched, her serious expression faded.  
  
Quistis thought she was alone, didn't she? I probably shouldn't be watching her like this; she might think I was stalking her or something. Of course, stalking ME was HER job description. . . eh.  
  
She was smiling.  
  
Did she smile like that all the time when she was alone? Smile like nothing brought her down, like she didn't care what others said, just as long as she could smile just a bit longer? She needed to smile more often, in my opinion.  
  
DAMN it made her look good. I should be spouting Shakespeare at this point or something, but my mind was cooperating. I could remember some bits of Macbeth, actually, but I never did like that play. Crappy ending, if you ask me. And too damn depressing.  
  
Okay, completely off track now . . . Quistis was smiling, I was watching. Okay. Now why was I watching?  
  
Because . . .  
  
. . . don't know, really . . .  
  
Dang. I let out a silent sigh and turned to leave. I mean, if there was no reason to watch, why should I?  
  
. . . Because you want to.  
  
Well, yeah, I want to do a lot of stuff. Nuke Galbadia, sprout wings . . . But I couldn't do any of that because they were either physically impossible or hampered by responsibility. Duty. Gravity. Crap like that.  
  
I needed some down time. I strolled the length of the Apocalypse, yawning. Shouldn't have woken up early.  
  
Hungry, too. I frowned. I'd had a donut for breakfast. One donut. One. And being stubborn, I'd ignored Ward when he'd shoved the rest of the plate at me. Donuts . . . donuts would be good . . . I took out a stick of gum to ease the gnawing in my stomach.  
  
I chewed my gum thoughtfully. Things around here had gone to the dogs. A week ago today, I'd been complaining to Kiros that I was bored.  
  
Now, I was on a spaceship heading to a country halfway around the world to make a deal that would stall the price put on my head by Galbadia, and meanwhile dozens of assassins were after me and I was being protected by a sexy, mysterious blonde whose only tie to me was that I'd saved her life. More then once, actually.  
  
Well, I'd definitely gotten the excitement I wanted.  
  
Even though, I was still hungry.  
  
I frowned, then brightened. I had planned for a moment such as this! Actually, I'd planned for if Kiros had decided to put me on a diet again . . . I shuddered at the experience, even though it had been years ago. I hadn't NEEDED the diet, my metabolism is cool like that. But, Kiros had mentioned something like 'health' and 'blood pressure'. Ick.  
  
Anyway, I had a box of Twinkies down in the cargo bay. They'd probably been there a few years, but Twinkies last forever anyway. Heh heh.  
  
I whistled loudly, hoping there weren't any cameras in the cargo bay. I looked up. There was. I grinned at it, waving, as its programming tried to determine if a wave was a threatening gesture.  
  
It never stood a chance. I pinned it right in the center of the lens with a big wad of chewing gum. Take that, stupid security systems! Even Estharian technology is no match for Laguna Loire! Ha ha!  
  
I rummaged in some discreet boxes, and grinned as my questing hand found the box. I pulled it out, and grabbed one.  
  
And spat it back out. Argh. Okay, so maybe Twinkies don't last forever.  
  
. . .  
  
. . . blip blip blip . . .  
  
I looked up. What?  
  
. . .  
  
. . .  
  
What was that? I stood up slowly.  
  
. . . blip . . .  
  
There! What was that? I scowled. Sounded electronic.  
  
. . .  
  
No. No way. The Apocalypse has like, a million bomb detectors. Nothing explosive got within ten feet of the apocalypse without a million sirens going off. Probably just the camera making a fuss about being disabled or crap like that.  
  
. . . blip . . .  
  
The sound was a lot louder here. Softer here . . . louder . . . louder . . . here? Here!  
  
It was . . . a suitcase. A plain black one. Sheez, how stereotypical did you get? Instinct told me not to move it, so I crouched down and put my ear to it.  
  
.blip blip blip blip blip  
  
Yup, this was it. But like I said, it really couldn't possibly be a bomb.  
  
. . . was it just me, or were those 'blip's getting . . . faster?  
  
.blip blip blip blip blip blip blip blip  
  
. . .  
  
CRAP!  
  
"Quistis . . ." I whispered, backing away slowly. Hyne, no . . . "QUISTIS!"  
  
I ran. I ran as fast as I could force myself to, the air in my lungs seeming to turn to ice and fire at the same time. I didn't blink, I didn't stop, I didn't hear and barely saw.  
  
I couldn't explain the next few minutes in detail if I tried.  
  
I'm not sure where I got the parachutes from - so the incessant safety drills were good for something after all - but I had two in one hand and, eventually, Quistis in the other.  
  
She didn't struggle; she seemed to read my face and grabbed a parachute for herself. I dragged her by the wrist across the Apocalypse rambling about damn bombs and damn Galbadia and why the heck couldn't a guy enjoy a Twinkie without his life being threatened? It wasn't even that good of a Twinkie!  
  
She said something about calming down and not knowing how to parachute, and I said "All you do is count to ten and pull the red cord" and promptly shoved her out the ship.  
  
I followed.  
  
And the only thing that followed me was a shrieking of shredded steel and iron and whatever else the once proud Apocalypse was made of.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I meant it to be longer, really, I did. Sorry. But I decided that what I planned for this chapter HAD to be chapter 16 because Laguna's POV ended up ten pages long. WAY too long. . .  
  
Oh, dear. I really am sorry about this chapter. But the story is rated PG -13 and I decided to take advantage of it . . . Hence, the implications Kiros said . . and the Twinkies. I should have removed them, but SOMEBODY thought it was, ahem, 'too damn funny' to take out. You know who you are. I blame you completely.  
  
ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS is amazing for a first story. I've looked around. And for a rare coupling? I don't know about you, but honestly, I don't know what to think. Maybe I have - GASP - TALENT. Could it be?  
  
I enjoy rare couplings. My favorite story list is packed with them. . . I remember saying that I disliked plugs. And I do, but I know of a few well - written and VERY unappreciated fanfiction. Hypocrite that I am, here are a few of the best Final Fantasy VIII gems:  
  
'The Lion and the Lamb' by Zenpheonixa - Squall/Selphie - VERY rare coupling. I'm tempted to write one, if only to get Squall away from Rinoa. This is only part one, and I eagerly await portion two.  
  
'Faded Memories' by Sorceress Fujin - Laguna/Quistis - Yes! Laguna and Quistis! Inspired by If My Heart Weren't Broken, it's just starting out, and is written far better than my fic . . . sniff . . . the amazingness of Fujin's style never ceases to shock me.  
  
'Hey! I Could Be A Messenger From Hyne, Ya Know!' by tigerofthewind - Selphie/Seifer - Funny stuff, right here. Humorous and creative, I might write one of these as well. However, this story has been on hiatus for a time now, so don't expect a new installment anytime soon (Damn you, tigerofthewind!). 


	16. lost somewhere

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Yes. I know, I know, I apologize, but I HAD to blow up the Apocalypse. It wasn't even in the game except for that one FMV, and it wasn't named. It's the closest to an OC I've ever gotten yet. But, I'm kinda flattered; more people were ticked because I blew up the Apocalypse then because I killed Rinoa's daddy.  
  
Besides, how else was I supposed to get them stranded in the middle of nowhere with no one to hold them accountable for their actions? Think on THAT. Warning, this is the closest I've gotten to fluff yet. . . I hate my sappy female self, it tries to steal the plot and turn it into sap. I'm so sappy you should use me on pancakes.  
  
Shameless Trigun reference ahead. If you spot it, maybe I'll ask you to beta for me. . . I need a beta. . . . God, erm, HYNE knows that I needed one this chapter.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I woke with the distinct feeling that I had been trampled by a dozen chocobos and that Squall had taken the idea of bombing Laguna to heart . . . and since I'm always near Laguna, I'd been bombed too.  
  
I was a good theory with two majors flaws. One, there were no chocobo tracks anywhere in the vicinity.  
  
Two, I didn't see Laguna anywhere near.  
  
I jerked up, opening my eyes. I regretted it instantly, and perhaps it was because of the bright light in my eyes, or the blood rushing away from my head, or my numerous broken ribs and the gash in my arm, but the elusive mayfly known as consciousness slipped my grasp.  
  
I woke again, and this time, I was aware of more than the pain. I was aware of the extent of it, and the possibilities the pain might imply, i.e, death, paralysis, amputation, etc, etc.  
  
I opened my eyes slowly, and not without considerable pain. I could practically feel my corneas burning away, and I blinked cautiously a few times, not that it helped any.  
  
I lifted the arm that didn't feel so much like it was on fire as the other one, and winced. Okay, NOW it was on fire. I didn't so much place it on my wounds as much as flop it around and hope it hit a gash or two, murmuring as many 'cure' spells as were necessary.  
  
I rested at the exertion of moving my arm, and sat up. Pain, extremely painful . . . I think I cried out, more than once, as I struggle to my feet, fueled by sheer will and something else.  
  
I had to find Laguna.  
  
That's right . . . I'm protecting Laguna . . . I can't protect him if I'm dead . . . so I gotta live . . .  
  
I staggered up to my feet, and I bit my lip as the parachute that had carried me down here caught a hot, sand laden wind and billowed up behind me, trying to force me to go that direction. I struggled out of the parachute recklessly, with no regard for the cuts and scrapes that were still numb from shock.  
  
You're pushing yourself . . . can't protect him if you're dead . . . can't protect him if he's not here . . . can't protect him if he's dead . . . so gotta go and . . . and . . . find him . . . make sure he lives . . . and . . . and . . .  
  
I collapsed on the red sand, and looked up. Red everywhere. Golden orange red. Desert. Plateus, and no . . . no sign of Laguna. Even the sky was yellow . . . everything was hot and burning . . .  
  
Red. Just red. No comparisons, no euphemisms. Just red. I forced myself back up, praying to anyone who could hear me to give me enough strength to stand. I shivered, my muscles trembling in their exhaustion. No, can't stop now.  
  
Red dust. I was moving. Walking, dragging, stumbling, pick a verb, any verb, but the point was, I was moving. The wind was this direction, so Laguna should be somewhere that direction. Logic abandoned me, but sense had not.  
  
Red dirt. What would I do after I found Laguna? My brain twanged, throbbing painfully, It seemed the my mind wasn't functioningwell enough o think that far ahead . . . find Laguna, that was the important part. Find him and protect him  
  
Blue jacket . . .  
  
Blue? Blue Jacket? I shook my head. Mirage? Hyne, please . . . Laguna?  
  
I stumbled forward, and tripped. I hit the ground hard, and gasped, closing my eyes tightly against tears of pain and frustration even as I forced myself to keep moving to keep crawling forward.  
  
It was Laguna.  
  
He was on his back, his parachute removed and at his side, leaning against a large, worn stone. Cuts and abrasions scrawled across his cheeks, and his hair flew into his face limply as the sand laden wind tousled it.  
  
. . .no . . .no movement . . .  
  
Asleep? Knocked out? . . . Dead?  
  
NO. It takes more than a half a dozen assassins and an exploding spacecraft to kill Laguna Loire.  
  
I tried to get my hand up to his neck to check his pulse, but my arm didn't want to listen to me. My fine motor skills weren't trustworthy enough, so I placed my head somewhere on his chest, waiting for a heartbeat, a breath, something to show that he was alive. I held my own breath . . .  
  
Badum . . . . badum . . . . badum . . . .  
  
He was . . . alive.  
  
I felt myself smile against his jacket. He shifted beneath me, and made a sound that rumbled under my ear. He'd be fine . . .  
  
I felt my self seize up, and then . . .  
  
Just . . .  
  
Floated away . . . .  
  
But it was okay to float away now.  
  
Laguna would be fine.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Pain.  
  
I . . .  
  
I hurt. A lot. Ow . . .  
  
I shifted; there was a heavy weight on my chest. I felt gritty particles gluing my eyes shut, but forced them open anyway. I regretted it. Bright light assaulted my eyes, and I squeezed them back shut instantly.  
  
This wasn't good . . . what the heck had happened? After forcing my eyes to blink open against the searing brightness, I tried to sit up, but the weight on me prevented it. I shook my head, and looked down.  
  
The heavy weight was . . . Quistis.  
  
Her body sprawled over my left hip and to my right shoulder, her face buried in my collar bone, her arm flung carelessly over my neck. Her hair was mussed, and red clay and dust clung to the few places her clothes let skin show through. It was as though she had just . . . crawled on top of me and collapsed.  
  
I didn't know whether it was a good idea to move her or not. I poked her in the ribs gently. "Quistis . . . hey, you awake? Quistis?" She didn't react. I poked harder.  
  
She shifted against my hips.  
  
I froze. Okay, note to self - no more poking Quistis. It makes her move . . . and on me . . . and she's there . . . and it isn't generally a good thing. Erk.  
  
Taking a deep breath, I went over what I knew. Quistis, in typical 'I'm- over-protective-and-suicidal' form, had flung herself over me before passing out cold in an effort to protect me from whatever beasties might roam around the area. My weapon was somewhere among the charred remnants of the Apocalypse . . . and . . .  
  
"Hey!" I yelped, something finally clicking. "They blew up my ship! MY ship!" They blew up the Apocalypse! MY Apocalypse! How could they? That ship was so cool, and they just blew it up, with no respect for it's utter coolness! MY utter coolness!  
  
I had the urge to shoot something. A lot. Through the chest, and preferably while it was wearing a Galbadian uniform. Scowling, I sighed. Quistis had her weapon at her hip, but I had no idea how to use it. And like I was putting my hands anywhere near her hips, anyway.  
  
I looked down at her. This was, actually, as good as it was gonna get for quite awhile.  
  
Quistis began to slide off me. I caught her arms. It was only to make sure she didn't aggravate any wounds she might have, but I blinked, thinking how it must look. Well, no one was here to see anything, and there wasn't anything to see. So nyaaa . . . eh heh heh . . .  
  
"Even so," I muttered sullenly, wrapping my numbed arms around Quistis' unconscious figure, "I'm enjoying this way too much."  
  
It was quiet, except for the wind. Oooh. Poetic. But still, I was thirsty, and my head hurt. Reaching up, I gingerly touched the lump on the back of my head. Flinching, I drew it back. Blood. I was really tired too, but sleep wasn't such a good idea. You know, concussions and all.  
  
Very uncool, dying was not cool at all.  
  
. . .  
  
I found myself talking to Qustis' sleeping form to fill the annoying silence. And to keep myself awake. "You know," I said mildly, if a bit hoarsely, "I should jump outta exploding spacecraft more often." I peered at her slack face, with was drooling slightly on my jacket. "I mean, it isn't everyday I wake up to find a beautiful woman sprawled over me."  
  
I grinned widely. "Why, Quistis, I didn't know you felt that way about me!"  
  
No reaction. My grin faded. Grr. "No fun making jokes if nobody's there to laugh," I complained. I shook Quistis gently, and patted her head. "Not that you laugh to begin with. I'm gonna change that. After all, I've got two whole months with you, hmm?"  
  
The sun was climbing higher. I checked Quistis's pulse. It was strong, and she didn't look like she was injured . . . but looks mean nothing. I blinked. "Well, Quistis, I don't wanna hurt you by accident, but we can't just lie here forever. The rocks digging into my back are kinda pointy." Pause. "And you're doing things you shouldn't be doing," I added uncomfortably.  
  
Er . . . yeah . . .  
  
"So, to stay, or go?" My brows furrowed, trying to think about other things.  
  
Quistis shifted against me again.  
  
Ah . . . "Go. Definitely go." I shook my head, trying to concentrate.  
  
Setting Quistis gently on her side next to me, I sat up, running my hand through my hair nervously. Think, Laguna. You were on the way to Dollet from Esthar. So which desert from there to there are we in? I shook my head. Can't think . . .  
  
"So . . ." I said slowly out loud. "Kiros will know that the Apocalypse's transmitter was destroyed - even if he didn't know that the rest of it had gone up in smoke too - and Dollet would inform Ward that I hadn't arrived for the talk thingy." I frowned. "They might be mad."  
  
"Kios and Ward . . ." I leaned back against an especially pointy rock, but ignored it. "They'll suspect foul play." I laughed, wriggling my fingers expressively. "Dun dun DUNNN!"  
  
Quistis was silent. I sighed. "No point talking to you, is there? Argh." I tossed my hair out of my face, but it fell right back. "Anyway . . ." I looked around. "We'll find high ground and see if we can figure out where the heck we are."  
  
Turning to her, I smiled. "How's that for a plan. You agree?" Silence.  
  
I took off my jacket and draped it over her. You know, with her really pale skin and all, she must burn pretty easy. Lucky she isn't into the whole let's-see-how-much-skin-we-can-show fad that everyone seems to like now, or she'd already be burnt.  
  
I slipped my arms behind her back and under her knees, and heaved the two of us up together. I practically dropped her right after, because the blood went rushing out of my head, so I steadied myself against a larger rock and squinted to see.  
  
She was pretty light. Not surprising, considering she was about as thin as a toothpick anyway. She's tall, too, so you wouldn't think it. I guessed vaguely at her weight, and considered asking her, before wincing at the memory of the last time I asked a woman how much she weighed.  
  
I looked down at Quistis. Actually, with my jacket on her, she looked kinda lumpy. Shaking my head to clear it, I picked a plateau to head to.  
  
The silence, except for a few crummy birds and my moving feet, was even more stifling than the sun. I muttered sullenly. "Stupid birds. Stupid rocks. Stupid sun. Stupid dust. Stupid sand. Stupid desert. Nah, too grassy to be desert . . . more like a dead, dead plain or field."  
  
Silence. I blinked, frowning, plodding on. I stretched a shoulder, and winced. "Damn sun. Now I'm beginning to burn, thanks a lot, Quistis." I glared at her, and more pointedly, at my jacket.  
  
More silence. "You know, Quistis, if you were awake, I'd talk to you." I glanced at the lumpy jacket.  
  
. . .  
  
" . . . ah, heck, I'll talk anyway." I kicked a rock. "You confuse me. I meet you, and you're suicidal. Miserable. Then we end up telling each other our deepest darkest secrets for no reason at all, and even though you could have killed yourself the second I left - cuz if you'd tried while I was there, I wouldn't have let you - you don't."  
  
Bowing my head away from the light, I kept talking. "You're so . . . I dunno . . . passionate? Yeah, passionate about whatever you try, and then you have the bronze-balled gall to tell me you can't love. I'm not seeing a pattern here, Quistis." I laughed softly. "Maybe I should set you up with someone. Just to see, hmm?"  
  
I thought about it. I didn't kow many people her age. She had been friendly with that Kinneas guy . . .  
  
I scowled, remembering her warm tone with him, that it was SHE who had called HIM. And that ridiculous drawl of his, not to mention the topic of most of their conversation.  
  
I felt my face grow warm as I remembered a few of the things he had said to Quistis . . . related, in the most part, to me. 'Is it true what they say about age and experience?' . . . What DO they say about age and experience? I could probably take a guess . . .  
  
I shook my head. "No no no, BAD Laguna. Quistis, uh . . . wouldn't appreciate a setup, would you, Quistis?" I looked down mournfully at my bundle of KO'ed bodyguard. "I got a confession to make."  
  
Shaking my head, I slowed my pace. "Good thing you're asleep, or I'd never fess up."  
  
No reaction. "It was Kiros fault, I swear. And Ward's, cause he didn't tell me Kiros had my private line tapped. He had to screen your call, he just . . . happened to make sure I was in the room. . ." Not quite the truth, but even if Quistis was asleep, she didn't have to know that-  
  
A voice floated up from my jacket, slightly muffled and hoarse. "I would have told you most of the conversation anyway, but I do hope you paid no mind to the second half."  
  
I fumbled, and almost dropped her. Trying not to look guilty, I winced. "How long, exactly, were you awake?"  
  
"A minute or so. You were talking about setting me up, I decided it would be best to stay quiet," she said slowly. "There was an extraordinarily long silence after that. I hope you weren't getting any ideas, Laguna?"  
  
I was glad the jacket was still covering her eyes, because I could feel my face seriously heating up. Crap.  
  
"I was trying to think," I answered, not untruthfully. "I don't know many people your age. Unless you're interested in snooty bureaucrats."  
  
"No. And I do understand, but next time I'll know to use a payphone."  
  
Her arm dragged my jacket off of her face. She looked . . . tired.  
  
Blinking, I blurted out, "You look like crap."  
  
"Why, thank you." Quistis didn't budge; if she wasn't talking, I would've thought she was still asleep. Her words hit me.  
  
"What's this? Sarcasm? He - ey," I grinned. "Am I rubbing off on you?"  
  
"Hyne forbid."  
  
My hands weren't exactly free, so I bent down and bit on the collar of my jacket and dragged it back over her face. "Go back to sleep."  
  
She didn't complain like I expected, she must be exhausted.  
  
Looking around the barren landscape, I sighed. Its times like these that a sense of direction would be nice.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I AM ON VACATION FOR CHRISTMAS. This story is on HIATUS until I get back, which is after New Year's. A few weeks . . . not that long, really . . . but the review count for this chapter had better be just as high as the last one, or I'll get mad.  
  
On a completely unrelated topic, I need help. My strategy guide has disappeared, so from their current location (somewhere between Dollet and Esthar) where are they, and what's the closest town?  
  
I dislike the idea that I might be moving the plot too fast. According to my little chapter guide, this chapter isn't supposed to occur for . . . two more chapters. Go figure. So the result of this is my chapter lengths being reduced slightly until this problem is fixed.  
  
So, Laguna being ever-so-slightly fluffy. Whaddya think? Eh heh heh. Gravity will always prevail, and everything will fall into place. Eventually, things'll get . . .fiesty . . . after all, all's well that ends in lots of smoochies. Mweh heh heh.  
  
Sorry, my muse is attacking me with a dozen plots at once, but I will fight! Ha! But still . . . I can't believe my perverted little muse thought up a Naraku/Kagome . . . 


	17. merely minutae

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I'm back, yes yes. My grandmother's computer has got to be the most ancient machine in the world. It runs on . . . shudder from the pain . . . WINDOWS 95. It doesn't even have word, I'm writing this in notepad. The horror.  
  
How did I get through this chapter? I wrote bits and pieces of it at a time, and then stitched the whole thing together. Not good for flow, I'm afraid. But the content of this chapter is very fun. . . I put in another PG-13 reference, so beware. That having been said, enjoy.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I was warm, and a dry, slightly stiff warmth was tucked gently around my neck. My muscles were uncomfortable and aching, but I suppose it was to be expected . . . I sat up, and the typical subpar motel comforter fell off of me. The curtains were closed, and the dim light offered no clues as to where I was.  
  
I was in a motel, yes, but where was . . .  
  
Laguna. Where was Laguna?  
  
I jerked my feet off the bed and vaulted off, but they weren't ready to support my weight and I stumbled into the wall with a slight thump. I blinked slowly, my eyes finally taking in my surroundings. My glasses . . . where were they?  
  
Still squinting my eyes, I peered around. They could very well have gotten lost in the past . . . however long it had been since I'd been conscious. Wait . . . they'd been placed on the bedstand . . . with a note.  
  
I adjusted on my glasses and open the curtains to let in minimal light, and peered at the slightly crooked print that was most certainly Laguna Loire's.  
  
Quistis,  
  
We're in Deling, the dodgy end, so don't relax. If I'm gone, then I'm at a payphone or getting food. This was the only place that would let us in with all the blood we had on us, but it's certainly not the place to take the kids. Keep your whip close, Quistis, just as a precaution. There's another change of clothes for you on the dresser, and whatever you do, DO NOT LEAVE THE ROOM.  
  
Laguna  
  
PS: Don't turn on the TV. Trust me on this one.  
  
Amazing how he changed when he wrote. He really was meant to be a journalist, I was beginning to doubt his original choice of vocation . . . I suppose I'll never cease to wonder why he doesn't make use of that marvelous vocabulary of his.  
  
A change of clothes? I looked down. My clothes still, and just as dirty and bloody as before. I felt my lip twitch. Leave it to Laguna to drag me and my battered self across a desert and tuck me into a bed in a shifty motel room, yet be too shy to change my clothes. Of course, if he had changed my clothes, it would have been extremely awkward, so perhaps this was a boon.  
  
Even if it was . . . sweatpants. Oh, Hyne, I had to wear those?  
  
I showered, and took the sheets off the bed, wrinkling my nose at the sight of the blood. That would be quite hard to get out in the wash, really, I knew from experience. Of course, no doubt the motel staff had plenty of similar stains to deal with. . . I peered out the window. Dodgy end, indeed.  
  
I dunked my clothes in the bathtub, and after scrubbing them as best I could, left them to soak with a few bottles of complimentary shampoo.  
  
So Laguna has told me to stay. I wonder why, really, I wasn't the one in danger. He was. The only reason I was obeying the note to begin with was because I had more of a chance of him coming back here than me finding him in the vast expanse of 'out there.' Either way, he was getting a severe scolding when he got back. And why on earth did he mention the television?  
  
I peered at the object in question. It didn't seem threatening, even if it was chained to the wall. I wouldn't have even noticed it if Laguna hadn't mentioned it. Obviously, he had turned it on to bad effect, or he wouldn't have warned me about it, but since he had been alive when he wrote that note, it hadn't bodily harmed him.  
  
I did trust Laguna, yes, but this was a matter of curiosity, not trust. He wouldn't have told me not to if there wasn't a reason, but . . .  
  
My hand hesitated over the power button. . .  
  
*click*  
  
My mind registered the images flashing across the screen for a good five seconds before I turned it off, my face a bright crimson. . . . had that even been physically possible? Well, that . . . ah, that couple had managed . . . I blinked several times, and sat down. Well.  
  
Laguna had warned me. I suppose that . . . that . . . that sort of thing would be quite . . .common in places such as . . . this. But still . . Oh my.  
  
I shook my head. Horrible images. It was a good thing that Kiros wasn't here. I wouldn't hear the end of it. . . or Laguna, that would be rather tense . . . or Irvine, he'd be worse than Kiros . . . Oh, Hyne, it was a good thing that I was alone, though I'd rather that I hadn't even touched the damned television.  
  
*knock knock knock*  
  
I jerked my head up, and thought quickly. Pitching my voice slightly lower, I answered gruffly, "Who is it?"  
  
I heard soft cussing outside, and a familiar voice. "Er . . sorry, I think I got the wrong room . . . damn, I was positive it was 847 . . . maybe it was 748 . . ." Laguna's voice began to trail down the hall.  
  
I raced to the door, opening it narrowly. "No, no, it's the right room. I just don't trust this place very much."  
  
Laguna smiled wanly. "He - ey, thanks. I was getting worried. I've been to about . . ." He frowned. "I dunno, really, but I had to check alot of rooms before I found the right one." I shook my head, and stepped out of the way as he staggered inside.  
  
Staggered? I scanned the room for a clock. Two thirty, obviously in the afternoon. My eyes narrowed. "Laguna Loire, have you slept at all in the past twenty four hours?"  
  
He twitched. "Uh . . ."  
  
I crossed my arms. "Laguna."  
  
The guilty look on his face deepened. "Uh . . Yeah?"  
  
"Why haven't you slept?"  
  
"I had stuff to do! I had to find a semi-secure line to call Kiros with, and then I had to get you some clothes, and then I had to take care of all the guys who were trying to break into the room and make sure it didn't happen again and then I had to-"  
  
"No excuses."  
  
"But Qui - stis, everyone thinks we're dead, and . . . and . . ." A look of intense worry and shock passed over his already exhausted expression. "CRAP I gotta call Squall still, and then I gotta get us transportation to someplace else safe, cuz here definitely isn't good, and then I - "  
  
I ignored his ramblings. "I'll handle things."  
  
He drooped visibly. "Fine, yeah . . . " Laguna snatched some of the obligatory stationary off the television, and using it as a table, began to scribble down phone numbers. The television wobbled precariously, and Laguna kicked it sullenly.  
  
I remembered the explicit images that had flickered across the screen minutes just before. Despite several mental kicks to my head, my face warmed considerably.  
  
Laguna blinked, and his face became strangely serious. "You . . . you turned on the TV, didn't you?"  
  
I felt my face begin to heat even more. "I . . ." I shook my head. The truth, Quistis. Truth between you and Laguna. "I'm doing my best to pretend it never happened."  
  
"Good idea. . ." Laguna muttered, his cheeks flushing slightly, clearing his throat. Obviously, Laguna had been witness to something similar.  
  
"Quite." I remarked as dryly as possible, shaking my head. Well.  
  
Laguna muttered something to the effect of a double cheese sandwich with barbecue chips and sulked in the general direction of the window. I eyed the phone uneasily. "I hope I can reach outside phones with that."  
  
No answer from my moping companion. I turned back to look, but he had flopped over on the dubious recliner, and was tracing pictures in the dust on the glass panes. I sighed and picked up the receiver. Well, I at least got a dial tone . . .  
  
Laguna began to hum something unrecognizable. Perhaps I just hadn't heard it before. Perhaps the tune was just muffled because of the distance. Perhaps it was just that Laguna was tone deaf and had no business humming in the first place.  
  
I gave my head a quick shake, and turned back to the ring tone. Someone had to answer, surely . . . a small click on the receiving end let my anxiousness let up slightly. "Hello, is Squall there -  
  
"Quistis? Is that you?" A voice with a slight drawl, accented with extreme shock, cut me short. I sat down lightly on the edge of the motel bed, and tilted my head.  
  
"Irvine?" I asked unnecessarily, my relief at hearing an understanding voice showing through. After all, he was the only one as of yet to know all the details of my situation.  
  
Laguna's head shot up at Irvine's name, although I couldn't read his expression. I nervously felt my lip twitch as I continued. "Oh, thank Hyne, I was hoping to get one of you, I - "  
  
Irvine's voice cracked as he raised it above mine. "They said Laguna was DEAD, but the others don't know that you were probably staying with Laguna, and I was sure you were . . ."  
  
"Dead? They . . . they did?" My mind raced. Of course.  
  
Laguna, while stressing earlier, had mentioned that everyone thought us dead . . . I hadn't really been paying attention to him, however, and the fault there was mine . . . everyone thought us dead, then, and well they should. The Apocalypse had been, quite literally, blown up. Who could have known that we'd escape? It certainly wasn't planned . . .  
  
It made perfect sense. I should have figured it out before.  
  
My mind snapped back to the present. "No! I'm fine!" I blurted out, before calming my voice and saying, "Laguna and I got out of the ship in time before the bomb went off -"  
  
"BOMB?!" A loud crash in the background belied Irvine's somewhat violent reaction, and I winced away from the receiver. Irvine went on, oblivious. "They said it was a crash!"  
  
I leaned against the headboard, finding myself slightly amused. "In a sense, it was, I suppose, but the Apocalypse 'crashing' would be like . . . " I searched for an adequate comparison. " . . . Squall losing to a bite bug."  
  
"Damn." Irvine muttered, his shock and, to my slight startlement, relief. "Oh, damn . . ." His tone changed suddenly to horror. "SQUALL. Quistis, he's a wreck."  
  
I froze. Squall had just gotten his father back in a sense, and now thought that he had lost him again. Maybe to him it was a good thing. . . But maybe not . . . I winced.  
  
"I mean, whatever the hell that guy's running on, they should either sell it or make it illegal," Irvine complained somewhat apprehensively. "It's like he's on auto-pilot, he isn't talking, and on his free time he just kinda . . . I dunno . . . thinks." The sentence ended awkwardly, and a heavy sigh floated over the line. "It's bad, Quistis."  
  
Squall was . . . depressed . . . or something. How could I, an orphan, possibly know what Squall was feeling? Squall himself had been an orphan just two weeks ago, did he even know what he was feeling? " . . . Oh Hyne . . ." I murmured anxiously. What was I going to do about this?  
  
"We can't get anything out of him," his tone changed to ticked. "We don't know anything, remember? How can we comfort him if we're supposed to be so damn clueless?"  
  
Perhaps it was better that way, then. Squall wouldn't want pity, or sympathy. "Let me talk to him."  
  
" . . . But-"  
  
"Irvine." I said firmly. "Trust me."  
  
"Fine . . ." A shuffling over the line. I waited. I couldn't hear much, Irvine's hand must have been covering the phone, but I heard muffled voices, and a few raised ones. It was a full ten minutes before I heard Squall's voice. "Who is it."  
  
I shrank back. His voice was. . . dead . . . not monotonous, no, but . . . the cold precision with which he spoke frightened me. My eyes narrowed of heir own accord. "Squall, it's - "  
  
"Quistis." Squall's cold voice lightened slightly, but slightly, "You know what happened? To Laguna?"  
  
My voice was fainter then I would have liked. "Yes, well, I - "  
  
"He's dead. I know it wasn't a damn crash, Quistis, I know it. And the entire thing pisses me off."  
  
"You know, I was going to give the whole damn thing a try, too." Oblivious to my interruption, Squall's venting persisted. "I was actually beginning to look forward to the whole general idea. But no, he decides to get himself blown up. Sounds real pitiful, doesn't it?"  
  
I blinked alarmedly. "No, there's -"  
  
The full effect of his words hit me then, like the full force of the storm that was his namesake. Squall was . . . grieving. He was grieving.  
  
Whenever a comrade died, whenever someone he knew fell in battle, Squall wouldn't cry, or do anything so obvious. He'd grow cold, and then get angry. Mad. A cold fury, and then he'd get revenge. Vengeance for the fallen. In this case . . . I hesitated. "Squall, Laguna -"  
  
"I even got to the point of actually asking 'Why me?'" Squall laughed harshly. "Yeah, it's sad. And everyone pity's me. They don't have a damn idea about why I've been pissed and they still pity me. I don't want their pity, and tell me Quistis, why the hell did the bastard have to get himself blown up, any-  
  
For the first time in over six months, I raised my voice. "HE'S ALIVE, SQUALL." I took a deep breath. Silence. I took advantage of his stunned quiet. "Will you listen to me for one moment, PLEASE?!"  
  
Squall hesitated, and I heard a slight rustle. " . . . alive." Untrusting, uncertain, hoping.  
  
"Yes, Squall. He's right here." I spoke unthinkingly, and winced.  
  
"Right there?" Squall's sharp mind caught my slip instantly. Of course, my prize student . . . "How?" he demanded.  
  
" . . . Do you want to talk to him?" I changed the subject, and fortunately enough for me, the subject was suitably distracting.  
  
" . . . talk to . . . him?" Squall practically croaked. "Laguna?"  
  
I asserted gently. "Yes, Squall. Laguna."  
  
" . . . "  
  
If it was anyone else, they would have dropped the subject. Luckily, it was me, not someone else, and I knew Squall well enough to know that his answer was as much of a 'yes' as I'd ever get from him. "One second. . ." I said softly.  
  
I looked back to the window. Laguna was industrially working on his piece- de-resistance, and I sighed. I'd told him to get some sleep, not doodle on overly dirty pieces of furniture. I cleared my throat. "Laguna."  
  
He looked over blearily. "Yeah?"  
  
I waved the phone in his general direction. "It's your son. He wants to talk to you."  
  
Laguna tried to bolt up, but ended up having to use all fours to scramble to his feet. "He wants to talk?" He squawked ridiculously, righting himself. "Squall?"  
  
I hid my amusement behind my hand, and turned away. "Unless you've been hiding another son, yes, it's Squall."  
  
Laguna looked at the phone apprehensively, and took it slowly.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
I left. I told myself I had to take care of a few things, but really, it was to leave the father and son in whatever privacy they could get.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Today had not been my day.  
  
Hadn't been my day yesterday, either, but the point was, things were going badly.  
  
I'd had to walk almost a gazillion miles across that barren landscape, and after night fell I finally looked up to see city lights on the horizon . . . and I'd been going the wrong way the whole time.  
  
So, I'd walked to the city, and had to settle with some really crappy motel. I mean, really crappy. The surrounding area practically reeked of . . . of . . . well, actually, it just reeked. I'd put Quistis into the bed and left to find her some decent clothes - cause yeah, she looked like crap - and I couldn't figure out her size . . . so, I got medium sweatpants. Medium sweats fit everybody.  
  
Well, a buncha idiots decided it'd be a great idea to break into a room and bag some free stuff. To be more specific, MY room. Actually, it was more Quistis' cuz she got the bed, but that's beside the point . . . Anyway, they jumped me, so I had to ah . . . you know, make sure they didn't bother Quistis, cuz she was still sleeping. The maids just kinda shrugged, so I guess that kind of thing happens a lot around here.  
  
Anyway, I wrote a note to Quistis, and went off to call Kiros. Kiros was ticked, for some reason. It wasn't like it was MY fault someone tried to kill me, sheez. So I let him know where we were.  
  
He said to lay low, that my being 'dead' to the world could have advantages. Like, no one trying to kill me for awhile. So my hopes of a quick rescue and a warm bowl of tomato soup back in my room were dashed, and I dragged my poor little self back to the motel. Where I, of course, forgot the hotel number.  
  
Then I'd gotten told off by Quistis, and had to listen to her half of a conversation with that Kinneas guy, and then I messed up while drawing my Moomba picture on the window.  
  
And now, I thought unhappily as I took the phone from Quistis, I have to talk with Squall, which is a major emotional task for me. I had a feeling that once this conversation was over, I'd be in no condition to do anything. . . Gee, great.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"You're alive." Squall's frank voice held a considerable amount of shock.  
  
I nodded. "And kicking."  
  
" . . . "  
  
Well, it wasn't what I'd expected, even though I hadn't really been sure what to expect. "Gee, don't sound so excited," I said wryly. "I'm touched, really."  
  
" . . . whatever. Sorry." Squall sounded almost . . . wistful? Maybe I'm not reading his voice right.  
  
I tilted my head, frowning. "For what?"  
  
"Nothing. . ." Squall's voice went completely flat. To me, anyway; Quistis could've gotten some meaning out of it, probably.  
  
The silence widened. "Hm," I muttered inarticulately, just to fill the void. Yeah, uncomfortable silences seem to dominate my conversations these days.  
  
. . .  
  
Squall started abruptly. "I would've gotten revenge, you know."  
  
I sat down on the chair by the window again. Hard. Revenge? "What?"  
  
"If you'd really died." Squall sounded serious, and I wondered how he'd actually taken my 'death.' "I would've gotten revenge for you."  
  
Revenge? For me? Well, I guess that's how fighters work. Still, though, Squall? "Seriously?"  
  
There was a rustling over the line, and his tone went from serious to bemused in less then ten seconds. " . . . I was already working on it, actually."  
  
"That would be something to see." I grinned as the mental image pounced on me. "Squall Leonhart, on the mad rampage for vengeance." A small laugh escaped me.  
  
Squall cut my laugh short "Why's it Leonhart?"  
  
What? "Hm?"  
  
He rephrased the question. "Why's it Leonhart, instead of Loire?"  
  
Oh. The last name bit. I bit my lip, and tried to go over my memories with as detached a view as I could. I explained slowly, and haltingly. "Leonhart was Raine's maiden name. While those at Winhill knew we were married . . . well, they didn't really like me very much. Raine was . . . well liked, and. . . a lot of people felt cheated when she married an outsider."  
  
"So when she died, they sent me off with her maiden name instead of her married name."  
  
"Yeah . . ." That about covered it. I cupped my hand over the phone to hide my yawn, and tried to clear my head. Man, Quistis was right, as usual. I really did need some sleep. "Um . . . so you wanted to talk, why?"  
  
"I just needed to make sure you were actually alive." Squall said simply. Ah. That was a good thing, I guess . . . Squall continued, "How?"  
  
He really need to work on his conversation skills, cause he's confusing the crap outta me. "How what?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too stupid.  
  
"How are you still alive?" Squall said impatiently. Oh. Right. "The news keeps panning over the remains of your ship, and it isn't pretty."  
  
ARGH! That's right! They blew up my ship! MY ship! I shook my head, deciding I was too tired to get too angry over it. "Yeah . . . I got lucky . . .I found the bomb, and so we parachuted." I thought over that for a second. "That was pretty cool, actually, but on the way down we both got belted with debris."  
  
"Oh." Squall's voice was nuetral. I guess he was hoping for more action or something.  
  
"Well, when the newsies get a hold of it, it's gonna be blown up into considerably more than what it was . . ." I groaned. "Oh crap, I can see it now . . . 'President of Esthar narrowly escapes certain death due to his search for the Twinkies.' Kiros is gonna hate this . . ."  
  
Squall sounded incredulous as he choked out, ". . . Twinkies?"  
  
"I was hungry!"  
  
"Sorry . . . I don't like Twinkies." Squall sounded slightly morose. Don't know what about though. It's not a big deal, not liking Twinkies. Ward prefers HoHo's.  
  
"Listen . . ." Squall said slowly. I perked my ears. His voice was lower, softer, and a bit more constrained. Translation: Yo, some deep, important crap is about to be said. Squall hesitated. " . . . I guess it's okay with me . . ."  
  
"What? The Twinkies?"  
  
"NO!" Squall practically shouted with exasperation. Okay, I was wrong. "The whole . . . the whole father son thing. I'll give it a try."  
  
Oh, OK. That wasn't so . . .  
  
Wait . . . what?  
  
"SERIOUSLY!?" I pumped the air with my fist. As usual, whan I get excited or nervous - in this case, both - I began babbling my thoughts outloud. Well, most of them, anyway. "Whoa, so cool, and oh man . . . what does a father DO? Ooh! I know, we can go FISHING. I can't really fish that well, actually, last time the fish I caught was like, small, even though Ward got a big fish, and . . ." I paused. "Um, wait, what's with the sudden change of heart?"  
  
Squall gave a snort that in different circles might have passed for a chuckle. "I think it was Quistis, actually . . . she was right about a few things." I shook my head. Yeah, she was right about more than a few things. Squall continued. "Quistis always manages to knock sense into me."  
  
"Me too," I agreed, trying to think around the bouncing thoughts of fatherhood flying around my head. "I think it's how she gets her kicks."  
  
Squall made a noncommital sound. ". . . She likes you."  
  
"Uh . . . What?" What made him sound so grumpy in a hurry? "Who?"  
  
"Quistis. She likes you, for some reason." WHA - AT? "She calls you by your first name, she joked with you. She approves of you, at the very least."  
  
No. Nuh uh. Yeah, Quistis might TRUST me, and hell yeah, I trust HER, and yeah, a wanna do a bit more than just 'trust' her if you know what I mean, but Quistis is a woman of higher class. She wouldn't even think of an old guy like me in, you know, THAT way.  
  
I slowly shook my head, realizing the motion would go unnoticed over the phone. "She's kinda cold. Doesn't laugh to much," I said, before brightening. "I DID get her to smile, though."  
  
"More than we could do." Squall said a bit less sullenly. "She'd fake it around us. She got really depressed right after Time Compression. We worried."  
  
"Yeah," I said. The rainy night less than a week ago, and Quistis laying sprawled on the hillside, flashed through my mind. " . . . and rightly so . . ." I muttered unthinkingly.  
  
"What?" Squall demanded, catching my slip. Damn him and his good hearing.  
  
"Nothing, just . . ." I winced. "Er, nevermind."  
  
"More of the infamous unspoken agreement?" Squall said dryly.  
  
I winced again. "Yeah, actually. . ."  
  
The door opened. My head jerked up, and Quistis walked in. She frowned at me. Oh yeah . . . I was supposed to be asleep . . . not that I was against being unconscious at the moment, but this was the longest conversion I'd ever had with Squall.  
  
" . . . whatever." Squall muttered. Maybe it wasn't such a good thing, actually.  
  
"Umm . . ." Quistis was still glaring at me. I spoke fast. ". . .Quistis is trying to get me to hang up the phone through the sheer power of her gaze . . . and its kinda working . . . so . . ." I trailed off.  
  
"Don't get yourself killed," he said abrubtly.  
  
"Aww, does this mean you care?" I grinned.  
  
Squall snorted good-temperedly. "Don't press your luck."  
  
" . . . damn." I hung my head and snapped my fingers in one hand, mock dejectedly.  
  
He hung up. I hung up. No good-byes necessary.  
  
I think it was then that the full portents of that conversation hit me . . .  
  
I don't know what Squall was doing on the other end of the line, but I was laughing as hard as my sore ribs would allow.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
As you can see, I switched o my normal computer and reformatted, so you don't have to deal with crappy Courier New font and bad paragraphing.  
  
Fwee . . . I just got two new games for Christmas, so my writing might slow down a TINY BIT . . . but, the point is . . .  
  
No longer am I on Hiatus! I am back in business, my loyal readers! 


	18. unnecessary thought

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Ah . . . sorry for the wait. I have no excuses, but lately my attention has been diverted . . . to things more . . . ahem . . . appertaining to the opposite gender . . . So, no excuses. Men are pigs . . . except for you, Laguna. I would kill to meet the woman who said "Imaginary men are so much easier to deal with."  
  
I left something important out last chapter, so what would have been done in a few lines then must now be remedied with a full chapter. My mistake, really. Ah well. More for you.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I arched my eyebrow impatiently as I looked down at the giggling president of Esthar. "What on Hyne's good earth are you doing sitting on the floor? There's a perfectly good chair . . . I suppose you're a bit more tired then you thought."  
  
Laguna looked up at me, grinning insipidly. I blinked for a moment.  
  
I really don't know how to describe it . . . but the closest I could possibly eer get to describing his motion was . . . Well, he launched up at me. Instinct forced me to fling my hands up, but Laguna caught them in his own and started to jump around in what might have passed for a dance in another less civilized country. I blinked in bewilderment as he leaped about, half dragging me with him.  
  
Laguna was laughing helplessly, and swinging me about the room wasn't helping his state of breath. "I get . . . and Squall . . . FATHER . . ." he managed to giggle out. I was too busy trying to maintain my balance to interpret him.  
  
"La . . . Laguna Loire, what are you. . ." I gasped out, tripping over a chair as I was pulled over in a gross parody of a spin. I whirled haphazardly, and almost fell, but was caught, and my trip was turned into a semi-graceful dip.  
  
I flung my arms around his neck to keep from falling backwards, though with his arms supporting me, it was hardly necessary. He smiled into my eyes.  
  
I flushed. I really don't think he had meant to hold me as close as he did. . . not to mention, he was doing it while I was in these horrid sweatclothes . . .but he was, and his eyes were alight with joy.  
  
I was happy for him. Truly, I was. But a tiny part of me was jealous that Squall could animate Laguna so much, and I couldn't . . . and with a simple conversation, no less.  
  
I, jealous of Squall, who had Garden under his thumb, had someone madly in love with him, who had a family who cared for him? Perish the thought.  
  
I blinked, feeling unexplainably flustered and warm. "I can understand your excitement, Laguna, but please set me down." I swallowed. "Please?" Wincing, I wondered how pitiful I sounded.  
  
He seemed to notice out current . . . position with his usual grace. That is to say, none at all, and he promptly dropped me.  
  
"Oomph. . ." I rubbed my lower back, where I'd landed.  
  
"Ack!" Laguna yelped, and offered me a hand . . . a bit more than a hand, he practically picked me up and set me on my feet. "You okay? Sorry!" He frowned worriedly. "Seriously, you okay?"  
  
His leg was twitching.  
  
I settled my hair back into place. "It's fine Laguna." I looked up at him. "Now, what were you so excited about?"  
  
Laguna's eyes lit up again "He's . . . gonna give me a shot."  
  
I smiled. He looked so joyed . . .  
  
All of it was worth it after all.  
  
Laguna sighed, blowing out on his long bangs happily. . . I stood uncomfortably as Laguna's thoughts wandered.  
  
Clearing my throat, I forced Laguna's attention back on me. "We're going to Balamb," I said seriously.  
  
"Balamb?" Laguna thought about it, although he was obviously still preoccupied. "As good as any place I guess . . .Why?"  
  
"It's a small town, and I know almost everyone." Peering out the window, I explained. "They're trustworthy, and won't mind you being there . . ." I turned back to him with a snort, amusedly envisioning the small town people of Balamb dealing with the president of Esthar. "Though, you'll be quite the novelty."  
  
Laguna flushed. I hid a smile behind my hand, and waved my amusement away. "In any case, if I see a new face that could stir trouble, I can ask around and make sure they're clean. Besides, the proximity to Garden could have advantages."  
  
"Ah." Laguna frowned thoughtfully, then looked up, smiling again. "When do we go?"  
  
"I'll wake you up then." I told him sternly, pointing at the rumbled bed. "You, President Loire, need sleep." Besides, I needed to finish my laundry that was in the bath tub. They wouldn't have time to fully dry, but at least in was better then what I had.  
  
He huffed irritably. "Alright, alright." He tossed himself onto the bed, and yawned. Or halfway yawned, because he was asleep in less then - count them - five seconds. Flat.  
  
I blinked at him. How on earth . . ? I'd gone without sleep before, but h must have been exhausted. Either that, or he slept easily . . . although, if he slept easily, how had he managed to fight it for over a day?  
  
The man was impossible to figure out. I headed to the bathroom and shut the door.  
  
Laguna Loire was one of the most impossible men I'd ever met. I can see where Squall gets it.  
  
Hours passed in thought, I was still nowhere near close to figuring out the enigma in the next room over. I wrung my clothes as dry as possible and changed before heading back into the main motel room.  
  
He was snoring faintly. I should have expected that. I prodded his shoulder gently. "Laguna, wake up." No response. I nudged him a bit harder. "It's time to go."  
  
"Dun wanna . . ." He rolled over. I stared at him. Honestly, he was what, forty something going on twelve?  
  
"Ki - ros, don't be so mean . . ." he muttered sullenly.  
  
"It's Quistis, not Kiros." I said tersely at the bundle of blankets. "Up. Now."  
  
He sat up, very slowly.  
  
And to my own discomfort, I stared.  
  
It seemed that he hadn't been asleep the entire time, and had woken up long enough to take off his shirt.  
  
And for a man of his age, he was extremely well built. . . well muscled, certainly . . . and smooth . . . better built then a few of my students actually. . . stretching slightly, he unknowingly gave me a brief show of them moving beneath his skin.  
  
Laguna looked up blearily at me through his lilting bangs, his eyes unfocused from sleep, drooping eyelids. . . one hand trying to keep his hair off his face, and not succeeding, the other supporting him on the bed . . . the white sheets and comforter bunched at his waist . . . In a husky, low, tired voice, he asked . . . "So now what?"  
  
. . . my mind . . . blanked.  
  
My voice spoke for me. "Hurry up, the train leaves in an hour. . ." I tossed my head shakily, and walked out the door, shutting it quietly. . . Unfortunately, my composure wasn't so easily maintained once I left the room.  
  
My back slammed against the wall, and I clutched my hair nervously. I gasped lightly, trying to catch my breath. . . my blood was pounding fiercely in my chest and ears, and parts of me ached . . .  
  
'Hurry up, the train leaves in an hour'?! Was that really the best I could do!? Honestly, perhaps I had been out of the race for a bit too long. What a time to mention the train, of all things! I should have said something more to the effect . . . the effect of . . .  
  
I shook my head to clear it. NO, Quistis Trepe! No, you do NOT think of clients in that light! It's against the rules, Squall only got around it because he was Commander and Hero . . . but then, Laguna's not my client, per se, and I'm a hero in my own right . . .  
  
Oh, HYNE, I had liked that . . . This wasn't supposed to be . . . no no no . . .  
  
I swallowed. STOP. Think, Quistis. Think.  
  
At the very . . . VERY least . . .  
  
I was physically attracted to Laguna.  
  
And I'd be damned to Hyne's hell if I liked it . . .  
  
Oh, damn.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
The train was cool. All trains are cool. You know, that's gotta be one thing me and that Elsie chick agree on, because hey, it's neat. The bits that are underground are kinda boring, I mean, there's nothing to see but walls and lights, but when they're above ground, things are neato.  
  
Still, though, I'd prefer the Apocalypse. But nooo, it had to get blown up. . .  
  
I looked at Quistis. She was shivering. . . her clothes were wet. I tried not to think on how that had happened, as a wet Quistis in any connotation was really not the best thing at the moment, but hey, she was cold. I shrugged out of my jacket.  
  
"Hey, Quistis." She looked up at. I held up my jacket. "Here."  
  
Shaking her head, she gave an apologetic expression. "I don't need it, but thank you anyway."  
  
Ri -ight. "Nuh uh." I draped the jacket around her shoulders anyway. She sighed, annoyed. I shook my head. I'll never understand woman. At all. Ever.  
  
At least she appreciated it, even if she tried not to. She shrunk deeper into my jacket, and breathed in deeply.  
  
I grinned. Score for Laguna, a beautiful woman's wearing your jacket . . .  
  
"I'm bored."  
  
I swiveled to look at Quistis. Her sullen expression was standard fare for her, but her eyes were looser, and her mouth was curved down a bit. So I, champion reader of faces, realized that Quistis really was bored. Like she had said. "Hey," I poked her shoulder. "I thought you were above complaining!"  
  
"Nonsense." She sniffed at me, looking at me above her glasses. "I can complain as well as any person. I merely tolerate more than most."  
  
"You know, I know what you mean." I grinned. Wish everyone was like her, actually. "'No one need suffer in silence when they can moan, whine, and generally make themselves a pain about it,' right?"  
  
She leaned back relaxing slightly, her tiny frown disappearing. "Whose quote is that?"  
  
I puffed out my chest. "Mine." I tilted my head down to her level and smiled. "It's a staple of politics actually."  
  
She blinked at me. And I, champion reader of faces, had no idea what the hell she was thinking.  
  
"It figures. . ." She muttered.  
  
I left her alone to her thoughts. Probably a hell of a lot deeper than mine, actually. Most likely thinking about the meaning of life, or reciting pi to the sixty third place. . . could she do that?  
  
I wouldn't be surprised. Damn, the woman had it all. Beauty . . . oh yeah, definitely beauty, brains, fame, fortune . . . I grinned. Not to mention connections. She had me and Squall and who knew who else in her pocket. Commander of all Garden's forces and the President of Esthar.  
  
Didn't bug me to much; I'm used to being in people's pockets. But I did wonder . . . who else had she won over?  
  
"Laguna?" A calm voice to my right woke me out of my thoughts.  
  
I jumped. "Yup?"  
  
" . . . Tell me a story."  
  
I grinned. I mean, seriously. Quistis Trepe, a fan of storytelling? Well, she had said she was bored. "A story." I poked her chin teasingly.  
  
Quistis crossed her arms, and her nose tilted up. "It's a perfectly reasonable request." She sniffed lightly.  
  
I smiled. A story. Okay, then.  
  
"Right," I thought back. "So Me, Kiros, and Ward were -"  
  
"Kiros, Ward, and I," Quistis corrected automatically.  
  
"Whatever." I waved my hand vaguely. "Anyway, we were all back in Deling, it was late and the weather was crappy. So, we decided it was as good night as any to get drunk, 'cause getting drunk is pretty much the only thing a soldier had to do in their spare time."  
  
I looked up. "Right. So we went in the bar, and it turns out it was the base for a bunch of rebels. We were there to get drunk, not make trouble, and we made it clear, too. They were an open bunch, so . . . we just kinda drank and sang drunk songs and stuff. It was fun."  
  
I paused. Quistis's head tilted in question.  
  
"Well, it turns out that the next day we had to go in and root them out. So we told them that, and that they should run. That could've cost us our jobs, actually. They said they couldn't do that, so we said no harsh feelings if we ended up killing each other, and then we started singing 'Sweet Katy.' Then we left . . ."  
  
Quistis sighed exasperatedly. "Men . . ."  
  
I looked at her. "Huh?"  
  
"Nevermind. Continue."  
  
I leaned back, crossing my arms. Right. "The next day, our squad went in. We were shooting each other, and, I nailed the other leader, and the leader nailed me." I grinned. I still got the scar, but anyway . . . we were trying to kill each other, and then one of the other guys starts singing 'Sweet Katy.'  
  
"So," I nodded, "then I start singing too, and soon, everyone in the entire room was trying to reload their weapons and kill the other guy. While singing."  
  
Silence.  
  
"That's the story."  
  
. . .  
  
I turned to Quistis. "You okay?"  
  
She shifted up.  
  
"Laguna?" She said quietly, looking blankly at the floor.  
  
"Yeah?" I felt my eyebrows furrow. What was wrong? If I asked, she'd shake me off of course, but . . .  
  
"I truly hope this isn't how you affect every woman you meet."  
  
I jerked in surprise.  
  
What the heck was that supposed to mean? I shook my head. "Hey, is this about that 'infamous charisma' you mentioned at one point?"  
  
Quistis' face remained carefully neutral, and I couldn't read it. After glancing in the direction of the window for a moment, she turned towards me and said quietly, "I suppose it is."  
  
Her eyes . . . I would've killed to have her keep looking at my eyes like that. . .  
  
Just charisma, huh?  
  
. . .  
  
Yeah, well, I hope not.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Short and sweet. Dun like it? Too bad. As previously stated, this isn't actual storyline, it was to get them to Balamb. And next chapter the plot will start up once more. Goodie.  
  
Final Fantasy X-2 is just a tad disappointing. Its like, 'Let's play pretty princess dress me up! YAY, TIDUS!' Honestly, you'd think Squaresoft, or should I say, Square - ENIX, could be even just a tiny bit more original? I mean, a resurrection plot . . . how SAD . . . I prefer the whole 'My true love never actually existed' bit they did in FFX.  
  
This fic is supposed to end in three chapters. But, my muse whacked me upside the head, so this fic will be a bit longer. . . fwee . . .  
  
My, look at the review count . . . a decently high number . . . we can do better than that, ne? 


	19. somewhere new

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I live!  
  
I think you got it wrong. No, Quistis didn't confess her undying love for Laguna. She still thinks her heart's broken, remember? She just admitted that he . . . erm, 'turns her on,' so to speak.  
  
Love takes a bit longer, folks. Wait a bit.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
"So, uh . . . Quistis, this hotel's only got one room." Laguna looked around nervously.  
  
I sighed. "We shared a room in Deling, and that only had one bed. This one has," I gestured with an annoyed air, "three. I sleep here, and you can sleep," I pointed, "over there."  
  
"But . . . that was different!" he whined. I ignored him.  
  
A few minutes later, he still was casting furtive looks around the room, but took a nervous seat on 'his' bed anyway. "So, what now?"  
  
I shivered slightly, remembering with slight displeasure the last time he'd said that. . . shirtless . . . and on aforementioned single bed . . . I shook my head dazedly, and answered even more curtly than usual, "Shopping. For food."  
  
"Oh . . ." Laguna looked slightly put out by my tone, but it didn't phase him much. Nothing phased Laguna much. "Ok!" He gave a passing smile as he practically skipped out of the room. I frowned at the feeling in my stomach, but followed.  
  
Laguna smiled brightly at the clerkwoman as we left the hotel, and I raised an eyebrow as the woman blinked, and stared, unbelieving. I sighed, and grabbed him by the elbow.  
  
Unfortunately, it seemed that Laguna didn't know how to tone down his presence. I suppose it was something to do with his Hyne damned charisma, but I sighed as adults furtively stared and children with less tact blatantly pointed.  
  
"Holy crap!" It's the dead guy!"  
  
I gave the child my best reprimanding glare, but as luck would have it, they didn't see it.  
  
Laguna was blessedly oblivious to the attention, or maybe he was just used to it. Although, in Esthar no one had been surprised to see him . . . maybe he walked the streets of Esthar often. "So," he said brightly. "Do you have money on you?" Laguna winked at a young woman slightly older than I.  
  
I caught myself before I scowled. "I have a tab. I'm not exactly poor, what with two months pay overtime for that Sorceress mess a few months ago." I said absently. "So I have plenty-"  
  
"QUISTIS?! What the hell?"  
  
"QUISTY! Quisty's back!"  
  
I swiveled on my heel. Selphie? Zell? What were they doing here?  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" Zell demanded, and then he looked around . . . I counted the seconds until he noticed my companion. ". . . THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?!" Ah. As usual, quite tactful.  
  
Selphie was gushing. "Oh wow, this is sooo cool, its been a long time, Quistis! Well, just a week, but yeah, that's still a long time! Especially since, we, you know, didn't know where you were, and, . . . OOOOOH!" I winced as she punctuated her sentence with a squeal.  
  
I knew that squeal. It's meaning was something akin to 'I'm-gonna-throw- myself-at-you-and-practically-kill-you-but-then-call-it-a-hug.'  
  
Zell was laden down with Selphie's shopping, and couldn't prevent the inevitable . . .and Selphie was now running headlong towards us. I braced myself for impact . . .  
  
I heard Laguna's muffled 'oof' and Selphie crashed into him, and latched her arms around his neck.  
  
"Sir Laguna!" Selphie bubbled happily. I tilted my head up disapprovingly, and felt my eyes narrow. Honestly, couldn't the girl do anything without involving physical contact?  
  
I cleared my throat loudly, with a pointed glare at Selphie. Which was, to my dismay, pointedly ignored.  
  
Laguna, at least, didn't seem to enjoy it that much. "Erm . . ." he feebly tried to disentangle her arms from his neck. Unfortunately, she had latched herself on quite firmly. "Look, ah . . ." Laguna winced as he freed his hair from her grasp. "Could you, you know, let go?"  
  
Selphie seemed to notice his discomfort. She let go, with a noticeable pout. Although, everything Selphie did was noticeable. "Honestly," she snapped her fingers, "Some people just don't like hugs! Guess you're one of them, huh?"  
  
"Um . . ." Laguna inched away from her as though she had long, pointy teeth. "Yeah, I am . . ."  
  
Zell shifted, and I took a bag from his hefty load. "Hey, thanks," He grinned. "So, Irvine told us everything. You just now proved it. Squall's . . . still an ass."  
  
Selphie bounced towards us. "Who're you calling an ass? Oooh, Squall? Yeah, he's being stupid." She bounced, and clasped her hands together, looking upward with a nostalgic pose. "I would KILL for a real parent."  
  
"You've killed for less . . ." Zell muttered from behind his stack of parcels. ". . .like that chocolate bar . . ."  
  
Selphie ignored him, and grabbed my wrist. "Quistis, c'mon, let's go talk." Laguna and Zell blinked simultaneously. Selphie scowled at them. "It's GIRL TALK," she declared, waving the phrase like it was the Omega Weapon. Surprisingly, the men muttered an excuse and walked off.  
  
"Works like a charm!" she gloated, and yanked me down on the bench. "Soooo." She whispered conspiratorially, "Who is he?"  
  
I tilted my head confusedly. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Don't play innocent with me!" She giggled like a madwoman, and poked me in the ribs. "You leave here all depressed and junky, and you're gone for like, a week, and you come back all hunky dory like the past few months never existed." Sniffing haughtily, she looked around, and leaned forward.  
  
"In my opinion . . ." she whispered almost drunkenly, "the only thing that could cure you that fast . . ." she cleared her throat, "is a MAN." She emphasized the word as though it were a revelation, a gift from Hyne. "So, who is he?"  
  
I blinked. "I'm afraid . . . not."  
  
"Oh come on!" Selphie pleaded in an exasperated tone. "I know for a fact it's a guy who fixed you!"  
  
Fixed me? To my knowledge, I was still broken. . .  
  
. . . if I was still broken . . . then why was I so much . . .  
  
No. Don't get your hopes up. You can't possibly believe that after all this time, you heart just got up and mended itself. If, of course, it ever existed to begin with . . .  
  
I looked at Selphie calmly as she rattled on. " . . .or was it some hot intern, like the West Wing? Oooh, I bet it was on a desk, wasn't it? Maybe . . ."  
  
I snorted. "I'm sorry to say, but the only three men I was around were Laguna, Ward, Kiros, and a hot dog vendor." Catching the light in her eye, I added, "an OLD hot dog vendor."  
  
Of course. . . not to say that being around Laguna was a bad thing. . .  
  
She snapped her fingers. "Ah, damn . . . So, anything happen that was exciting?"  
  
I raised an eyebrow. "I died," I teased.  
  
Selphie blinked, and then grinned. "Well . . . you know, as exciting as that probably is, I was hoping for more details. On stuff that happened before then?"  
  
I shook my head. "Let's see, then . . . well, I was in a hotel, and I saw Laguna on TV. His life had been attempted on numerous times, so I decided it was best to go and make sure he didn't die before Squall . . ."  
  
"Stopped being an ass?" Selphie offered.  
  
Well, she certainly knew how to put things. "Yes. And so I went to help. Esthar hasn't had a war in years, so their organized defenses, though effective against monsters, did nothing to stop assassins. So I organized the defenses and Kiros, Ward and I did shifts to make sure Laguna didn't get killed."  
  
Selphie nodded me on, and I continued. "A few slipped through. A man with a grenade got into his bedroom, and destroyed the entire room."  
  
"Oooh. . . ."  
  
"Yes. There were a few other attempts as well, but when we went to Dollet, Laguna found a bomb, and we parachuted. The Apocalypse was found, but we weren't, so we were presumed dead, as you knew." I glanced over at Selphie, to find her grinning insanely.  
  
This, to state the obvious, was not a good thing.  
  
"You hate bodyguard duty," She accused happily, "But you did it willingly . . .for LAGUNA." Selphie emphasized. I swallowed as the glint grew in her eye  
  
I shook my head, and hurried on. "I found Laguna and passed out. Laguna managed to drag both of us to Deling, and I got us transportation to hide here. Hyne knows how, he was hurt. Thank Hyne I had numerous healing spells on me."  
  
"Uh huh . . ." Selphie swung her legs, her impish smile still wide on her face. "You've done nothing but talk about Laguna, you know."  
  
"I'm his bodyguard. I had to spend a lot of time with the man," I protested. Not that I had anything to protest about . . .not really . . . "For Hyne's sake," I snapped, "I know his favorite snack food!"  
  
"What is it?" Selphie wrinkled her nose.  
  
"Twinkies."  
  
"Hohos are better . . ." she mused, before grabbing my shoulder and smushing us together cheek to cheek. "Anyway, you gotta admit . . ." she whispered impishly, "Sir Laguna's pretty good lookin' for a guy his age, huh?"  
  
I cursed silently as my cheeks flushed. Selphie appraised my blush with a sparkling eye. "Aha. You already noticed that, didn't you? Hmm?"  
  
"SELPHIE!" I gasped, before looking around nervouskly. Had anyone heard her? I hissed at her, "The man is Squall's father, for Hyne's sake!"  
  
Selphie wasn't phased. "I think . . ." She leaned in closer than before . . . " . . . that you LIKE like Laguna, ne?"  
  
"WHAT?" I yelped, and straightened immediately, giving her a wary eye. Well, I certainly liked Laguna yes, but it was purely a physical attraction . . . even though, I could appreciate his company as merely a friend as well . . . but then, the attraction wasn't PURELY physical, was it?  
  
Damn. Damn damn damn. I'd taken too long to answer, and Selphie was giving me knowing looks.  
  
"You . . ." I tried desperately to look casual, but probably only succeeded in looking desperate. "You don't honestly think that, do you?"  
  
"I do." Selphie winked.  
  
I grabbed her wrist. "You wouldn't."  
  
She smiled. "I would."  
  
I looked at her. "You would."  
  
She looked around, and said quietly, "Or wouldn't I?"  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" I frowned.  
  
Selphie grinned. "I mean that . . ." she twirled her hair haphazardly, "I can forget this whole conversation . . . in return for a favor."  
  
"That's . . ." My eyes widened at the devious intentions of my - former - friend. "That's blackmail."  
  
"Yup!" The traitorous girl bounced happily. "But even if it weren't blackmail, you'd still do it."  
  
"What makes you think that?" I demanded curtly.  
  
"Cuz. You're my friend, remember?" She sucked on a finger thoughtfully. "It's not much . . . I just wanna know what Irvy thinks of me, you know?"  
  
I blinked at her. Twice. And I genuinely smiled for the third time that week.  
  
Selphie didn't seem to take it the right way, though. "IT ISN'T FUNNY!" She wailed, rocking back and forth.  
  
"Yes it is." I answered without thinking.  
  
Her temper struck with less warning than usual. "Oooh, so what if I happen to like him, huh? So what if it's hopeless, a million other girls like him just as much, so I got as much of a claim as they do!"  
  
"So . . ." I said quietly, raising an eyebrow, "you don't believe him when he tells you he likes you himself?"  
  
"He says that to all the girls!"  
  
Ah. I see, her point is made. "Trust me, the man's in love with you. Why do you think he flirts with other girls so much when you're around?"  
  
"Cause he's a goober?"  
  
I sighed, but my smile couldn't help but get wider. This might take awhile.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I blinked.  
  
Quistis was smiling.  
  
Okay. It must be a girl thing. . . I mean, girls giggle and stuff over nothing, so I guess it was normal for her and Selphie to be all, you know, girlie. Even though I thought I was the one who made Quistis smile! ME!  
  
Zell noticed where I was looking. "She hasn't been, you know, really honestly happy like that in, uh, forever. Bask in the sight while you still can," Zell noted almost morosely.  
  
"Nah, I got through to her a few times," I said defensively. Zell cocked an eyebrow at me, and I said hurriedly, "I can't stand it when other people are depressed."  
  
"She seems . . . fine now, though." Zell studied her for a second, and shrugged. "Eh, what do I know about women." He fished a candy bar out of his pocket and started to unwrap it.  
  
I frowned at Quistis. Yeah, she did seem a bit looser . . . a lot looser, actually, then when we were at the treaty signing. Then, she was just an absolute cold fish.  
  
. . . Yeah, fine, okay, so she was still a cold fish. But she was a nicer cold fish now than she had been. "Yeah, I guess she is better now," I remarked openly. "You should have seen her a week ago. When that Rinoa girl went . . ."  
  
I froze. Zell looked up, obviously interested, I grinned weakly. "Uh . . . yeah, she looked . . . really out of it," I finished lamely, wincing. Yeah, he could definitely tell that was a lie. Hell, I'd even know it was a lie, and I usually take things at face value.  
  
"Part of the unspoken agreement those two have going on."  
  
I practically fell out of my chair trying to turn around.  
  
Squall was there. How the hell . . ? Oh, wait . . .I remembered . . . SeeDs probably wouldn't be running around town like this on a normal day. It must be a break day or something, so almost anyone could be here. . .  
  
I covered my surprise and grinned genuinely. "Hey."  
  
He nodded at me. "Hey."  
  
He took a seat. I blinked, but to cover any awkwardness, I continued. "Anyway, Quistis is a lot better lately. She seems to be having a good time with Elsie."  
  
"It's Selphie." Squall said neutrally.  
  
"Same difference," I waved it away. "Anyway, I'm pretty clueless about the whole thing."  
  
"You know more than we do," Squall pointed out.  
  
" . . . THE HELL?!" The table shook as it was punched. I looked confusedly over.  
  
Zell was standing up, looking between the two of us strangely. He shook his head, and muttered, "Uh, yeah . . . I think I misunderstood this whole thing . . ."  
  
Squall looked up, then back at the martial artist and raised an eyebrow. "So Quistis did tell you guys," Zell looked up as Squall went on. "And said not to tell me you knew."  
  
I shrugged. New bit of information to me, but it sounded like a move Quistis would make. And Zell looked both confused and guilty, so it was apparently true.  
  
"Uh. . . yeah, actually . . ." Zell scratched the back of his neck. "Eh . . . so . . . is it true?"  
  
How exactly does one react in a situation like this? It's not like I could swell with pride like most fathers. I mean, seriously. I'd denied his even being alive for years, and chosen to forget about him until he practically jumped up and waved his existence in my face.  
  
I opened my mouth to answer, but it was probably lucky for me when Zell answered his own question. "Eh, what am I saying? Of course its true. Look at you guys, your profiles look so much alike it's like looking in a frigging mirror." He munched thoughtfully on his candy.  
  
I looked blankly at Squall. I guess we looked a little alike. . . Squall cleared his throat, obviously intent n changing the subject. "Where's Quistis?"  
  
"Over there," I pointed. Squall followed my finger, and blinked, then frowned. I tilted my head.  
  
He looked at Quistis, and back at me, and back at Quistis again. I just sat there and blinked. Did he see something? "What?" I asked.  
  
He looked at me. "Nothing." He gave something equivalent to a sigh and looked back at me seriously. "So what are you guys doing here?"  
  
"Hiding." I yawned. "Kiros thinks being dead for a bit is the best way to stem all the attempts on my life. Plus, he's got something planned."  
  
"What's that?" Zell asked.  
  
"Like I know." I shrugged. "Power plays, surprise attacks, and stuff like that aren't my strength."  
  
Squall sputtered in his drink.  
  
I twitched.  
  
Squall looked at me. "This is a pretty open place to be in hiding. Wouldn't Winhill be better for something like that?"  
  
"Winhill is technically still part of Galbadia." I pouted at that fact. Kiros shoulda let me grab it while Galbadia was weakened from the Sorceress War, but nooo, the Lunar Cry had taken a lot out of us as well . . .  
  
Squall frowned for a moment, and looked at me with a serious set to his mouth. "You'd be better off if you stayed at Garden."  
  
Well, I guess so yeah, but . . . wait, WHAT? I looked up at him. "Whoa! Are you being serious?"  
  
He sighed, and put his drink down. "Yes. Seriously."  
  
I grinned at him. He stared blankly and went back to his drink.  
  
You'd think seeing Squall for the first time after he found out I'm his father would be awkward. Hell, I'd have bet my life on it.  
  
I grinned. Nah, if I put my life on the line for anything, Quistis would kill me.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Ah . . . Ok. So they get to stay at Garden now.  
  
I have my plot sheet right here, and it reads 'In Garden they get forced to become closer . . .' How the heck am I gonna do that?  
  
In any case, my writing is going to slow down. I really gotta prepare for my SAT's. I did well on my PSAT, but they've totally screwed with it and its format. Plus, I need to practice writing ESSAYS. I can't write a formal essay to save my life. . .  
  
I'm listening to the little known Get Backers soundtrack. The series isn't dubbed yet (thank god) but Saikou Fansubs has thankfully gotten around that. I recommend it to you. 


	20. not claustrophobic

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."  
-Friedrich Nietzsche  
  
Last chapter was crap. I don't have much time anymore, and my writing has suffered from me rushing to get out chapters fast. So, now I'm opting for quality over speed. NO, I'M NOT TIRED OF THE STORY AND I HAVEN'T STOPPED. I WILL NOT STOP THIS STORY UNTIL IT IS FINISHED.  
  
I reposted last chapter with numerous corrections, so go back and read it, because I've added some new things.  
  
Other than that, sorry for the wait, blah blah blah, I don't need to waste time apologizing. . . er . . . sorry? Forgive me?  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
"So cool!" Laguna practically skipped through the lobby of Garden, admiring the large fountain. He strained his arm over the water to touch the statues, and I winced as I wondered the damage being done to his already injured shoulder and back.  
  
"Hey, dolphins!" Laguna didn't seem to notice my worry. I sighed, and rubbed my forehead impatiently. "Laguna, really. It's not that -"  
  
"HEY! Look, real FISH!"  
  
He grinned at me, causing more flipping of my intestines. Oh, Hyne. I swallowed, and kept my tone as brusque as possible as I swept past him.  
  
Squall shook his head. While it was merely annoying my me to have my employer and bodily obsession act in such a childish manner, I can't imagine how it felt for Squall to have his father - better known to him as president of a nation - behave that way.  
  
Laguna was acting . . . cute. Fathers and presidents don't act cute. Unfortunately, he was the exception to the rule.  
  
I sighed and tapped him on the shoulder. "They're a type of carp, Laguna." I gestured to the statues, and then to the bright orange fish swimming through the streams of water their stone counterparts spat out. "They help keep the fountain clean."  
  
I felt a hand slip slyly around my shoulder, and a hat flipped over my head. I rolled my eyes and let Irvine hit on me unabashedly. Look at it like this: if it got Selphie slightly riled, maybe she'd take our little chat to heart.  
  
Irvine whispered in my ear under Selphie's murderous glare. "Hey, so it's Laguna now, not just President Loire? And he's your employer, eh?" He chuckled good-naturedly. "Losing the professional touch?"  
  
How could he know?! I felt my heart beat accelerate, and I winced. This information in Irvine's hands? Did he know? Could he tell? The last time he had confronted me in such a way, I had been able to truthfully deny it. I'm horrible at lying, now what do I do?  
  
I felt my eyes widen slightly, but kept my poker face in place. Irvine snorted at my reaction and continued a bit more playfully. "Ooh, a blush?" I was blushing? I cursed inwardly as Irving continued. "Does this mean you HAVE lost the professional touch with Laguna, or . . . maybe that you've touched him rather . . . unprofessionally?"  
  
I jerked away violently, remembering vividly - for the first time - the way Laguna had hauled me around the desert bridal style for a full day. For those who don't know The bridal style of carrying involves on hand on a thigh and the other curled slightly around the back underneath a breast . . .  
  
Realizing my reaction, I covered it with a slight coughing fit, and glared at Irvine. He winked, and snatched back his hat. Great, now I had hat hair.  
  
I avoided looking at Laguna, but turned to Squall. Who happened to look a lot like Laguna, now that you mention it . . . I shoved my thoughts back and slipped into instructor mode. "Well . . . Commander, where will our guest be staying?"  
  
Squall looked at me and gave a slight smile. I frowned. What on earth . . ? Did he look . . . slightly . . . guilty?  
  
I really didn't like the idea of a slightly guilty, slightly mischievous look on Squall. On Selphie, understandable, on Laguna, adorable, on Irvine, inevitable, but on Squall? Impossible.  
  
I dismissed it as imagination as he handed me a key. "Show him to the room, and then show him around Garden. Quistis will take care of you during this visit, since I guess she's still under your employment."  
  
He looked over. "Sorry, I'd do it myself, but I have things to do. I'll have Xu take over later, though."  
  
I stepped in. "Employment? I think not."  
  
"I think so." Squall said with gravity. "He got me to employ you as his bodyguard professionally."  
  
I glanced at Laguna, who shrugged. "I felt guilty; I mean, unpaid work?"  
  
"If your job didn't pay, would you still do it?" I countered. Vaguely, the idea of being under Laguna's actual employment . . . 'bugged' me.  
  
Laguna succeeded at looking sheepish, but his shoulders set back, telling me his mind was set.  
  
Ah. Well, Laguna was my boss now. . . Squall was dragged off by Nida, and I shook my head. Well, now I have a real reason to try and control my hormones.  
  
I saluted Squall's retreating back perfunctorily and gestured for Laguna to follow. "You're lucky Garden is used to important persona," I remarked, "Or the students and SeeDs alike would suspect something."  
  
"They're still staring," He grumbled amicably. I looked around. Yes, he was catching more than one eye. "I suppose," I mused, "they aren't used to seeing dead people following their instructors around."  
  
Laguna shrugged, and folded his hands behind his head as we walked toward the dormitories, before his head did a double take to the right. "Hey! I know them!"  
  
I looked up. "Oh," I blinked at the pair I saw. "Raijin and Fujin. I didn't know you'd met them." I didn't know they'd returned to Garden, either. Squall must have thrown a fit when they showed up.  
  
"I don't know them," Laguna admitted. "But the whole 'know your enemy' thing . . . I had files made of them during the latest Sorceress War."  
  
"Ah." I pointed ahead. "The dorms. You get one of the better guest dorms, actually. Reserved normally for high ranking visitors."  
  
"Cool!" He pumped his hand in the air.  
  
"QUISTIS. PRESIDENT." I whirled. Fujin and Raijin had followed us.  
  
"Hey, uh . . . we need to uh . . . ask you somethin', ya know?" Raijin waved his arm sheepishly.  
  
I looked over at Laguna, and he shrugged. "Yes?" I asked primly.  
  
"Yeah, we need you to come on and -"  
  
Fujin grabbed Raijin's ear and yanked it down, muttering something. Raijin, ignoring the abuse, or more likely just used to it, nodded, and faced us.  
  
"FOLLOW." Fujin said curtly, and tuned on her heel and went. I sighed. I was an instructor, and if these two had indeed been reinstated as cadets, I was bound to help them. I followed, and Laguna shrugged and came with me.  
  
The walk was silent as I followed the former disciplinary committee and looked around. This was the less used, older section of the dormitories. Hardly anyone used these, only the visiting families and SeeDs. "Where are we going?" I asked curtly.  
  
No answer.  
  
This was getting slightly ominous, but Laguna and I were a match for these two if trouble came. I sighed and continued to follow them.  
  
Raijin stopped. "Isn't this it, Fuj?"  
  
Fujin examined the door he'd stopped at. "AFFIRMATIVE." She turned to me. "DRAGON."  
  
I blinked. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
Laguna scratched his head. "Did you say . . . a dragon?"  
  
"In there." Raijin nodded enthusiastically. "Other guys were busy, ya know? You're a hero, and we can't take on a Ruby by ourselves, yeah?"  
  
"NEGATIVE." Fujin said, with almost a morose look.  
  
Well. A dragon. Was this a lie? What good would that do them? Well, if it was a hoax or trap, I'd like to have my whip out. I uncoiled it from my waist. Laguna frowned and pulled out his Uzi. I winced at my lack of perception; I hadn't noticed he'd had it on him.  
  
I took a breath and readied my whip. If it wasn't a hoax . . . I opened the door. . .  
  
It was . . .  
  
A broom closet. I blinked. Laguna stepped slowly out of his battle stance and scratched his head. "Is this the wrong room -"  
  
I felt something shove into my back, and with an 'oof' I stumbled forward. A second 'oof' followed and then . . . dark. I blinked, why was it so dark?  
  
The sound of a door locking behind me cleared my head considerably.  
  
"MISSION ACCOMPLISHED." I heard outside the door, fading down the hall.  
  
"So, we did it, report back to Commander, ya know?" WHAT? Squall? Squall had . . . ORDERED this?  
  
"TOO EASY." Fujin remarked. I opened my mouth to shout, but a broom or mop jabbed into my stomach and I gasped in my breath. Why would these two . . .  
  
"I thought getting reinstated would be tougher, ya know?" Well, that answered that question.  
  
I shook my head, but the dark made the gesture useless. . . my nose brushed against something warm . . . skin.  
  
Laguna was underneath me, somehow managing to take the brunt of my fall into the closet. I closed my eyes - not much use in the lack of light anyway - and found myself wondering exactly what he looked like at that moment . . . in any case, he was very . . .  
  
He was very warm. I could feel his breathing, still fast from the shock, and his pulse was going nearly as fast as mine. His breath was on my ear, and I suppressed a shiver . . . if I could just . . . How would we get up? Who knew what might happen in the tangle of limbs as we tried to right ourselves . . .  
  
NO. Don't think like that, not it such a postion!  
  
Detach yourself, Quistis. . .  
  
I cursed inwardly as I tried to catch my breath and struggle to my feet at the same time, but only ended up trompsing on the slightly squishy President beneath me. He hissed, and helped me find decent footing. We clambered in the dark to get situated.  
  
No words, of course. That would make things incredibly awkward. Eventually, though, we managed to stand up on our own power, facing each other.  
  
Oh. Hyne. This was not a good thing. I heard Laguna rattle the doorknob . . . no luck.  
  
I was locked in a closet with Laguna Loire. How horribly cliché . . . and at the same time . . .very . . .  
  
Perhaps detaching myself wasn't such a brilliant idea.  
  
. . .  
  
. . . say something . . . I fidgeted slightly, and Laguna stiffened. Neither of us had said a word.  
  
. . .  
  
"Laguna?" I said aloud, and winced as my voice came out a bit more breathy then I would have liked.  
  
"Uh . . . Yeah?" Laguna said in a low tone.  
  
"I vote," I said slowly, experimentally shifting my shoulders in the darkness, "that when we get out of here, someone gets hurt."  
  
"Good idea." His tone was wry.  
  
I voiced my question slowly. " . . . Why on earth would Squall want us locked in a closet? What does he have to gain?"  
  
"Eternal amusement?" He suggested.  
  
"Please." Squall is hardly a sadist. "Think about it, it's as though he's trying to bring us together or set us up . . ." I praised the darkness of the closet as I flushed and my words grew cluttered. "I mean, I . . . I really don't think he would enjoy having to call me 'Mom,' do you?"  
  
" . . . Uh . . . yeah, you got a point there . . ."Laguna said slowly. I nodded in agreement, but he continued. "You'd be the strictest Mom in like, all Esthar . . ."  
  
I cuffed him soundly on some part of him, I couldn't tell where. "Laguna, think PROPERLY."  
  
"Sorry," He said slowly. "I'm kinda distra - er, yeah, it's hard to think in here . . ." He cleared his throat unsuccessfully. "You know, it's all hot and uh . . . close . . ."  
  
"I could tell, Laguna." No need to remind me, really . . . I sucked in a deep breath as Laguna shifted. Ah . . . I both cursed and blessed the dark.  
  
"Hey, Quistis?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I . . . uh . . . nevermind . . ."  
  
I remembered vaguely a time when Selphie had ended up shoving Zell and that librarian in a closet. I had seriously doubted the effectiveness of such a maneuver on so bashful a person as the librarian and as clutzy a person as Zell . . . but then, it had seemed to work well enough . . . ahem . . .  
  
I shook my head and slumped over . . . onto the closet's other occupant. Laguna stiffened but didn't say anything. "There's a broom poking into my back," I explained wearily. "I can't stand up straight."  
  
I blinked in the darkness. It was pitchblack, and though I knew I was burying my face in Laguna's jacket - which smelled wonderful - I didn't know what part of his jacket I was burying into.  
  
I was . . . snuggling. And I liked it.  
  
I sighed. Well, look at it this way. I have no choice but to be smushed against a man I am attracted to . . . PHYSICALLY, mind you, nothing more, but I might as well enjoy it. It wasn't as if Laguna could protest.  
  
At least he didn't seem to mind.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
CRAP. Crap crap crap on a STICK. Oh man, this was NOT good. This was really not good at all. The woman was burying her face in my chest. Jeez, she was how old, eighteen? Even if she was half my age, the point is she was still old enough to know the effect she had on men.  
  
Men, including me. Unfortunately. I swallowed.  
  
I mean, whoa . . . she was warm and nice and smelled good. I'm not one for perfumes, but she still smelled good. Like . . . I dunno . . . flowers, I guess.  
  
Heh, not much of a romantic am I? Squall got that from me too. Floating through a freezing vacuum wasn't the best way to hit on a girl.  
  
I bet a lot of guys hit on Quistis, though. Like that Kinneas guy. He'd just waltzed up behind Quistis and grabbed her! And what HAD he whispered in her ear to make her blush like that? I thought he was after Selphie . .  
  
Hey, I remembered her name. Frowning for a moment to debate on whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, I shrugged.  
  
Moving was . . . not a good idea. I brushed up against Quistis again, leaving me to wonder just which part of her anatomy I was brushing against . . .  
  
NO. Something, anything, just get my mind off of . . . you know . . . THAT.  
  
"Um . . ." I muttered. "So, how about a game?" I looked up, and mentally smacked myself. That was really, actually, LAME.  
  
"Like what?" Her voice was whispery, cool, and calm. Woman of ice.  
  
"Um . . . A. Albatross."  
  
"Hmm?" I detected a quizzical note in her voice.  
  
"Think of a bird that begins with B."  
  
"Oh . . ." A pause. "How about, bald eagle?"  
  
"Cool. C, Cormorant."  
  
"D, Duck."  
  
"E. Eagle."  
  
Quistis whapped at me. "I already said eagle," she scolded lightly.  
  
"Nooo," I said, exaggerating the amusement in my voice since she couldn't see my (charming) grin. "You said BALD Eagle."  
  
"And the difference is?" Impatience, hmm? Was Quistis tense? I wished.  
  
I struggled for a reply. "Bald eagles are . . . well, bald," I explained. "My eagle isn't."  
  
"Fine." She snapped. Ooh, barracuda. "F, Flamingo."  
  
"G . . ." What's a bird that begins with G? I thought back to past games with Kiros . . . "Um . . ." I sighed. "Yeah, I'm bored."  
  
"No, you're stuck," Quistis contradicted. "You can't think of a bird that begins with 'G."  
  
I whined petulantly, crossing my arms even though she couldn't see. "So what? Can you?"  
  
"Golden eagle."  
  
"We already said eagle - twice!" I howled plaintively.  
  
"Those eagles were different. My eagle is golden." So?  
  
"Yeah, well . . ." I fought the urge to cross my arms, I'm still bored."  
  
"Well, being trapped in a closet does limit ones actions slightly."  
  
"Slightly?" I didn't bother choking down the sarcasm in my voice. What can I say? I was tense. "You're kidding me, right?"  
  
"I am prone to understatement." Her voice was as cool as ever. Quistis, as usual, was able to keep herself completely calm in any situation, even being locked in a small dark space with . . . well, me.  
  
I shut up and closed my eyes. Quistis was still buried in my jacket . . . I looked down at where I felt her head to be. Quistis was one of the strongest women I knew. . . actually, THE strongest woman I knew. Yet, at the moment, she seemed really really fragile. I guess she was in a sense, but . . .  
  
I winced. I had let go of Raine - not completely, that as impossible - but then I'd decided to get a crush on the one woman who couldn't return my affections. Not that she COULDN'T, she just didn't THINK she could.  
  
Same difference. I guess -  
  
"Do you hear that?" Quistis said abruptly, cutting off my thought.  
  
"Huh?" Hear what? I concentrated. . . . tap . . . tap . . . tap . . . footsteps? FOOTSTEPS? "Hey, I hear someone!" I'M SAVED! I swear, one more second like this in this closet, and I am NOT responsible for my actions. On Quistis. Eh heh.  
  
"HELLO!" Quistis lurched out of my chest (damn!) and pounded on the door. "HELLO! Can you help us out?"  
  
I joined in enthusiastically. "We got locked in here! HEY!" . . . nothing. I winced. "Are you there?" I leaned against the door, putting my ear to it. "Crap . . . Quistis, I don't hear them anymore . . ."  
  
I felt Quisis wriggle by me to put her own her to the door. At this point, we were both fully leaning on the door. . . So when it swung wide open . . .  
  
I tumbled the ground, landing on my side. Hard. I winced, and before Quistis could suffer the same fate, I jabbed my arm out. She landed . . . on my arm. Ow. So much for fragile.  
  
"Ouch. You need to lose some weight." I pulled my arm out from under her, rubbing where my new bruise would soon show up.  
  
"It's muscle," She said crossly, rubbing her back. "Let's go kill Squall now."  
  
I grinned. "One track mind, Quistis?"  
  
"I do NOT enjoy being locked in closets." She glanced at me and caught my next question. "No, not even with you. Not with anyone. At ALL."  
  
I heard a very, very familiar chuckle, and Quistis sat up curtly. "Well, that didn't take as long as I expected," an amused voice said behind us. A very, very familiar, amused voice. "It was what, four, five days? Bravo."  
  
I swiveled on my bum. Oh, crap. "K . . .Kiros?" I could see his eye beginning to twitch . . . which meant in any second the innuendoes would be brought out.  
  
Presidential Rule #1: when caught in a scandalous position, be it fabricated or deliberate, DENY DENY DENY. "Uh," I swallowed. "It really isn't what it looks like, I swear . . ." I glanced at Quistis, who was getting up very deliberately with a set look about her mouth.  
  
"Right . . ." Kiros grinned mischievously, his eyes glinting more than usual. "Well, if you two aren't worn out by morning, we need to call an impromptu meeting."  
  
"Exhaust . . .?" Quistis questioned, before bolting into a ramrod straight position. "KIROS!"  
  
"Eh heh . . ." I swore. No, no no no, man oh man, I would never hear the end of this . . . "Kiros, my man, seriously . . . this is, uh . . ." I fumbled for an explanation, but really, the truth was way to bizarre to be believed.  
  
Quistis muttered sullenly. "This is going to be a rough week."  
  
"Yeah." I agreed.  
  
Kiros grinned. "What are you two whispering about?"  
  
"I . . ." Quistis flushed, and fluidly dropped the keys in Kiros's hand and turned on her heel. "I'll be in my room if you need me. Kiros, I hope you can help Laguna find his room, I have work to do."  
  
And so, she fled the scene. Traitor.  
  
Speaking of fleeing, though . . . I blinked at her retreating form before turning to Kiros sheepishly. "How'd you get here?"  
  
"Well, I called to make sure Squall knew you weren't really, you know, dead, to find that he already knew." He shrugged. "So I told him you were headed to Balamb, and he told me that he'd get you to Garden. So, I left Esthar with Ward and hurried over to set plans for your great unveiling."  
  
Kiros frowned, and waved his arm in front of my face. "Hey, you okay?"  
  
I jumped. "Ah . . .Yeah . . . I just think I'd like to get to my room right now, too. . ."  
  
"Laguna," Kiros said slowly, mockingly. "You aren't staying to chat?"  
  
"No offense, but I really need a shower right now."  
  
"Cold?" Kiros quipped. I know that he was joking, but I really wasn't thinking. Seriously, I was seeing red and pretty much doomed myself in Kiro's mindset when I answered in utmost honesty.  
  
". . . Damn straight."  
  
To the sound of Kiros laughter, I ignored my former friend and hobbled off to my room. Yeah . . . a REALLY cold shower.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I SUCK at humor. This entire chapter is pure crap. Why am I posting this? Why why why? Beacasue I don't want you thinking I'm one of those unfaithful author's, that's why! Tch . . . so much for quality over speed . . .  
  
Next chapter WILL be better.  
  
My writer's block led me to take you guys suggestions. Yes . . . evil matchmaker Squall . . . this is gonna be interesting. . . although I worry. This fic is ending up like . . . we're walking . . .we're walking . . . walking . . . BAM! Random lemon! So, I'm increasing the . . . tension. 


	21. unsure mistake

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I really am back for good. The holidays and everything that came from them (AKA video games, books, new art supplies) killed my muse. But now she's back. And giving me hell, this fic has taken a drastic turn towards . . . sappy mush.  
  
Not that there's anything wrong with sappy mush, but it bugs me. I like bittersweet endings. The original ending involved . . . well, much angst and unrequited love on both ends. Both ended up to scared of rejection to take a chance at real love, and dismissed it to the other as mere lust, and the epilogue involved Quistis confessing her love at Laguna's funeral some thirty years in the future. Luckily for you, I've switched things a bit.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I scowled as much as my blank face would allow in the direction of the three people who had planned my little . . . rendezvous in the closet. "I really can't think of why . . . they, of all people, would conspire against us."  
  
Laguna peeked around the corner with me, over my shoulder. "Neither can I. But hey, they probably thought they were working for us, not against."  
  
"So, detainment against one's will has been legalized?" I shot back.  
  
Just . . . look at them. I tried my best not to look utterly disgusted. So . . . innocent. Squall was drinking his coffee, listening morosely with Irvine while Kiros told a joke . . . most likely a dirty one.  
  
"I would have never imagined those three; I'd have pinned Selphie and Rinoa," I mused aloud, for Laguna's benefit. I felt Laguna shift awkwardly. . .  
  
"HEY!" Selphie's shrill voice rang in my ear. I winced, and rapidly checked to make sure our victims-to-be hadn't heard – or at least hadn't cared – before turning around to face her.  
  
"What," Rinoa grinned in a mock demanding voice, "would you have pinned on us?"  
  
Laguna, of course, having a complete and utter lack of tact, bluntly spoke before I could silence him "They," he thumbed over his shoulder, "locked us in a closet." I resisted the urge to slap my forehead.  
  
I tried desperately to keep the look of profound horror off my face as Rinoa gawped conspicuously and Selphie gave me some excruciatingly obvious winks. Laguna scratched the back of his neck for a moment before his cheeks colored, and he winced by way of apology.  
  
"I," I said somewhat harshly, "Don't see the humor in the situation."  
  
Selphie giggled. "Don't be stupid! Squall's too uptight to actually order people to be locked in closets!"  
  
Rinoa nodded. "I don't know Kiros, and Irvine I can picture, but Squall?"  
  
Laguna shrugged. "It was the reinstatement task for these two people . . ." he frowned. "I suck at names, geez . . . some pale chick, and a burly guy . . ."  
  
Selphie bounced backwards. "Raijin and Fujin?"  
  
"But Squall . . . said their task was going to be impossible!" Rinoa blurted out. "He . . . he said they'd never be able to pull it off!"  
  
Laguna flinched visibly, and I remembered – with no small amount of annoyance – exactly how easy it had been to get us in that wonderful, horrible situation. Bristling, I stated curtly, "We were caught off guard."  
  
Selphie looked about ready to burst an artery, which I hoped would happen very soon, if only to drain the mad flushing from her face. "Oh, wow . . . Squall's gonna be ticked . . ."  
  
I snapped. "Enough!" I demanded, and grabbed Laguna's upper arm. "We're going to have a little . . . CHAT with those three."  
  
As I hauled him unceremoniously across the cafeteria, he asked bewilderedly, "But . . . wasn't it just Squall? Why are we blaming all of them?"  
  
"Do you really think," I said sharply, "that Squall could have come up with that on his own? It'd take at least two perverse and overactive minds to think that up."  
  
"Is that Irvine guy really that, uh . . ." Laguna swallowed. "Is he as bad as Kiros?"  
  
"Worse."  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Laguna Loire, vulgar language is a sign of unintelligence."  
  
"But Kiros doesn't care."  
  
"Kiros is also past trying to think of you as intelligent. Come ON."  
  
I stomped up next to the table, where Squall and Irvine had noticed our approach. Kiros, however, was still engrossed with his own weaving of what seemed to be a long list of pick-up lines. I waited a moment, but he didn't seem to notice me, so I helped him out a bit. . . . well, a lot.  
  
I cuffed him across the shoulder. With my whip arm, so yes, I made it hurt. As much as possible, considering the many, many pressure points in one's shoulder. Kiros swore briefly, and wincing, glared up at me. "Hey! What was that for?"  
  
I ignored him, and slammed my palm onto the table, glaring at all three of them before focusing on Squall. "Squall . . . What exactly was the requirement," I seethed, "for Raijin and Fujin getting reinstated?"  
  
Squall absorbed my apparent bad mood, the slightly sheepish look on Laguna's face, and the entire portents of my question most admirably. And then choked on his coffee in an equally miserable fashion. Yes, I can have this effect on people. Being heartless – literally – can have its virtues.  
  
"Don't tell me they actually managed it . . ." he rasped out after his coughing fit. I leaned forward.  
  
"Managed what?" Kiros and Irvine piped.  
  
I glared at them. "You helped him, do you really need to ask?"  
  
They were successful at looking innocent and confused, but I merely scowled.  
  
Squall look horribly amused. "I was . . ." He coughed. "Raijin and Fujin came to me hoping for a reinstatement. I gave them a choice in missions . . . they had to either find Odin –"  
  
"Seifer killed Odin!" Irvine squawked.  
  
"They didn't know that." Squall sipped his coffee. "Either they had to do that, or manage to shove these two into a closet." He gestured at Laguna and I before shaking his head. "I was sure they'd never manage it, too . . ."  
  
"My guard was down . . ." I hissed disconcertedly.  
  
Irvine and Kiros looked at me, and then Laguna. Then at Squall, then at the pair of us. Then they looked at eachother. And broke into laughter, which wasn't as spontaneous as it might have been if I wasn't expecting it.  
  
"What. . ." Irvine struggled to hold down his laughter long enough to gasp out a sentence. ". . .what gave you . . . that . . . brilliant idea?"  
  
I turned on Squall viciously . . . which he didn't notice. Squall had the audacity to shrug nonchalantly. "I was in a weird mood, and Selphie was shouting in my ear."  
  
An almost malicious leer appeared on Kiros's face. "So . . . Laguna . . ."  
  
Laguna let out a small, noncommittal sound and muttered, "Uh, Quistis . . . maybe we should, uh . . .go."  
  
"Aww . . ." Irvine waved his straw at us condescendingly. "Whispering sweet nothings in her ear?"  
  
I suppressed a yelp as Laguna grabbed my wrist. "No," he said firmly. "Kiros, we'll meet you in the conference room."  
  
Kiros winked. "I'll wait . . . say . . . is twenty minute long enough, Laguna?"  
  
Squall waved with an almost exact replica of Seifer's smirk on his face as I was dragged off by my employer. I sped up slightly so I wouldn't exactly be dragged, but the fact that he was still latched onto my wrist was really bugging me, especially since his hand was very warm, and sending my body false signals.  
  
"Laguna," I said calmly. "You can let go now."  
  
"Are you sure you won't, you know, run back in there and try to lop of Squall's –"  
  
I cut him off. "Rinoa wouldn't be too happy if I did." But it was still an extremely enticing idea . . .  
  
Laguna looked vaguely worried for a moment, but let go. I rubbed my wrist unconsciously as we continued toward Garden's private conference rooms.  
  
SeeD mission are always kept in utmost confidentiality, and this is helped mostly by our housing. Garden has so many wave scramblers and decoders surrounding it that a radio listener couldn't hear what the lowest rookie is ordering for lunch, never-the-less what's in our padded conference rooms where we discuss battles to come.  
  
Normally, I'm grateful for the privacy these rooms convey. However . . . I winced as I remembered Kiros comment. Yes, these rooms were very private . . . and I was going to have twenty minutes in one, alone with Laguna.  
  
I sighed aloud. Well, it seemed I was once more in a pretty little problem. Hmm. . . I thought briefly perhaps I should take a REAL vacation, and attempt to get over my obsession with Laguna's body.  
  
I peered over at him as he opened the door and held it for me, grinning.  
  
Perhaps not.  
  
"Thank you," I acknowledged gratefully.  
  
I headed in, and Laguna peered around the room before flopping onto a chair.  
  
I sat primly opposite of him.  
  
We had about 17 minutes before Kiros came. Not that I was counting, mind you. I glanced up and inspected the ceiling, upon noticing Laguna meticulously scouring the floor. I suppose it was stupid, trying to politely ignore eachother so hard it was blatantly obvious.  
  
I frowned. Laguna hadn't brought it up. Things like this couldn't be awkward between us all the time, not if I had to spend practically 24/7 with the man.  
  
I cleared my throat, and Laguna's head jerked up to look at me. "You know," I said mildly, "I seem to recall a similar situation. Two exact opposites, being shoved together against their wills by well meaning friends. . ." I trailed off.  
  
"So . . ." Laguna egged me on to finish. "What happened to 'em?"  
  
"Well . . ." I winced as I thought of Squall and Rinoa making out on the balcony not long after that.  
  
"That bad?" Laguna asked eagerly.  
  
"Not quite . . ." I said carefully. "I'm expecting the engagement announcement any day now . . ." I winced once more. "I was one of the 'well- meaning friends,' too."  
  
"Oh." Laguna's voice could not have been more neutral.  
  
"Yes, oh." I agreed numbly. "Not the best example . . ."  
  
"No shit, Sherlock."  
  
I didn't bother reprimanding his word choice. "Dig deeper, Watson," I rebounded almost wearily.  
  
Laguna blinked, and then grinned. "Good one. Never heard that before."  
  
"Damn . . ." I looked up at the door that Kiros had just entered. He pretended enthusiastically to be disappointed. "So I guess I'm not interrupting anything?"  
  
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Hello, Kiros," I said airily. Laguna glared at him, causing me to deign to raise an eyebrow.  
  
"Gee, Laguna, don't look so happy to see me," Kiros tossed his braids as he plopped into a chair in a similar fashion as Laguna. Laguna glared even harder. I eyed him. Was he going to be like that all day?  
  
"Laguna," I ordered in my best teacher's voice, "Stop being so childish, we have buisiness to discuss."  
  
I winced, unable to hide it. Had I really just ordered the President of Esthar, and my employer, to stop 'being childish?' However, to my lingering shock, Laguna merely grumbled slightly before mumbling, ". . .fine."  
  
"Fine." I allowed myself to feel relieved as I passed the stage on to Kiros.  
  
"Alright." Kiros coughed slightly before adopting a serious tone I hadn't heard him use before, and I saw Laguna lean forward with an alertness that caused my head to tilt questioningly.  
  
"Laguna, you already know this," Kiros began, "But there's a formal convention coming up in a few days."  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .laguna. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I hesitated, trying to remember what he was talking about. "Yeah, it's . . ." I shot Kiros an incredulous look. What was he thinking? "It's hosted by Galbadia this year!"  
  
"Bingo." Kiros confirmed. I groaned, and really wanted to go hit my head on the wall. But that wouldn't be a good idea, Quistis would drag me away and call me 'childish again . . . I am sooooo NOT childish!  
  
Kiros went on. "You were invited, of course, but now they aren't exactly expecting you to come. . . .being, well . . . dead."  
  
Heh . . . I grinned. Yup, right. I nodded. "So, we're going to hit a lot of birds with the proverbial rock by going . . ."  
  
"It's a stone, not a rock, Laguna," Quistis corrected me gently before turning back to Kiros, "But how are you hitting more than one bird?"  
  
Hey, I know just as much as Kiros, she doesn't have to go to HIM for all the answers. I leaned back, trying to look thoughtful. I ticked the reasons on my fingers. "They won't have a place set up for me, so I can rip on them all night for it . . . Makes them look bad. . . . for one . . ."  
  
"And it's really just insulting." Kiros said, stealing my limelight. I scowled, but then listened. "All their efforts to kill the guy," He grinned widely and leaned back crossing his arms. "And he's still rubbing his balls in their face."  
  
"Kiros . . ." Quistis warned at his language. I grinned. "Yeah, Kiros, vulgar language is a sign of unintelligence." He looked over at me incredulously. Hah, take that.  
  
"Right, right, sorry Quistis." Kiros waved it away shamelessly. "Anyway, it's the perfect place to show everyone he's alive." He sat back up triumphantly, making a fist. "Newsies and reporters around every corner."  
  
Quistis's eyes gave the tiniest flicker; her version of a frown. "That makes my job harder."  
  
"Um . . ." Kiros shifted uncomfortably . . . I realized why, and cringed. Better let Kiros tell her this. "Yeah . . .See, these guys don't like surprises . . ." Kiros faltered, trying to think of a soft way to tell her.  
  
He gave up. "Laguna's only allowed one bodyguard," he said flatly, "Which I was registered as before you came along."  
  
I cringed. Three, two, one . . ."WHAT?!"  
  
Yeah, Kiros . . . what? You know Quistis won't take this standing. Eh. I looked up at the ceiling a tried to look guiltless. And actually, I was, for once. I'd had nothing to do with the paperwork.  
  
"Relax," Kiros said in an eerily soothing way. "Laguna here," he explained, gesturing to me widely, "is also allowed to bring his wife and/or dancing partner."  
  
I froze. No. Kiros wasn't really going to do that to her, was he? Didn't he know what happened to . . . well . . .  
  
It wasn't that I minded being her dancing partner. Yeah, no way in hell would I mind, but . . . what was Kiros THINKING?  
  
He was continuing blithely to Quistis. "I can hold your whip and if you need it –"  
  
I leaned forward, and put my fist on the table. "No."  
  
Quistis tilted her head slightly. "Laguna?"  
  
I was kind of tempted to explain it to her softly, like I usually do to her, but . . . that wouldn't help my situation any. I glanced over at her, but then shook my head determinedly. No, Laguna, don't listen to Quistis, she'll do the whole 'I'm-Quistis-Trepe-and-I'm-so-sexy-without-knowing-it' and totally distract you. "Kiros," I went on, "You really willing to risk her reputation like that?"  
  
"Reputation?" Quistis questioned. Kiros tried to say something, but I cut him off.  
  
"Yeah." I said as coldly as I could make my voice. "When they say dancing partner, it's just a polite way of say 'Hello, one and all, bring your latest whore for show and tell.'"  
  
Her eyes widened. Shock, maybe anger. Both, probably at my crudeness and, ahem, spiffy word choice. I didn't glare at her, but I did keep eye contact. Yes, Quistis, be angry at me. Please, pretty please, this once be really, really angry. Don't come with me; don't go.  
  
I like Quistis, more than I should, really, but . . . I gulped. Was I really still . . . Raine, am I still afraid to have someone replace you? Am I making up this danger to Quistis as an excuse? Kiros probably thinks so . . . Raine?  
  
Why would I think of Raine at a time like this . . .  
  
. . .  
  
"Laguna, it isn't that bad. . ." Kiros faltered at my glare. Why the hell was he interrupting my concentration?  
  
"Yes it is, and you know it," I snapped.  
  
Yeah, it seemed like I was overreacting. But I'm a writer. . . . eh, well, kinda. But the point of it is, I know the power of words . . . If I went with Quistis, it would be all over the tabloids in less than a day. She wouldn't be able to move an inch without the paparazzi crawling all over her.  
  
So I was trying to protect her. She won't like it much, but I'm still going to.  
  
"So. . ." Quistis began slowly. I closed my eyes. Be angry. I don't mind . . .much . . . as long as you stay home . . . "So there's no problem then?"  
  
"Quistis?" I jerked my head up. What? "Didn't you hear –"  
  
"I heard clearly." I blinked. Wow, she was ticked off. What'd I do, besides try and protect her again? "In case you haven't noticed," she hissed slowly, "I am now formally and fully obligated to act only for your protection."  
  
Kiros nodded slowly. I shot a 'look' at him, but he just kept glancing between the two of us. "Laguna's right, Quistis, you SHOULD stay."  
  
I gave him my best death glare, which I'm sorry to say, had nothing on Quistis's. Damn him, he KNEW that would just make Quistis want to go even more! He knew it, so why was he siding with HER? Didn't he care a shred about the woman's privacy for the next . . . oh, ten years?  
  
Quistis stood, and looked at a blank spot on the wall. "Duty before honor . . . Laguna."  
  
I didn't flinch, but . . . Kiros did. Ouch. Ok, that hurt.  
  
Like, alot.  
  
She didn't have to cut that deep to make a point, dammit. Did she even know what Galbadia made its soldiers DO? She's a SeeD, not a soldier; SeeD knows better than to send its people to missions that hurt civilians . . .  
  
I really didn't have any idea whether or not Quistis knew exactly how deep that cut, but hey, this is Quistis, Miracle Woman. It's best to assume she knows everything.  
  
She narrowed her eyes even further, and I wondered if she could still see clearly out of them. "My honor doesn't need your protection, Mr. Loire."  
  
So it was back to Mr. Loire now, huh? That cut a little deep in its own right . . . I guess its about time to fight back . . . Quistis, you pushed too far.  
  
"But . . . you did." She did need my protection at one point; she had to remember that, right? My voice was dead flat, not the usual for me at all.  
  
Quistis scarcely blinked, but I could tell she was a bit surprised from my tone. But even the minor hint to her suicide attempt made her glance at Kiros to see if he noticed. "I advise caution, Mr. Loire," She said stonily. "Our debt has been paid."  
  
"We've been even for a while now, Ms. Trepe," I said levelly. "And yet, you stayed, and are still here."  
  
"Are you questioning my motives?" Her voice snapped back.  
  
I shook my head morosely. "I'm questioning your reasoning."  
  
Quistis nodded curtly, and seemed to be out of things to say . . . miracles will never cease. Giving up on me, she turned to Kiros. "When is the convention, I have work to do."  
  
Kiros hastily began, "It's this –"  
  
I cut in. "Thursday."  
  
I winced as the door was shut abruptly, probably Quistis's controlled version of slamming the door. Yeah, she was pissed. . .  
  
But she TRUSTED me . . . I really had . . . and she did . . . I winced. Was I regretting it all ready? Already? I knew I'd regret it . . . but this bad . . . and why the hell was my chest so tight?  
  
Kiros shifted. I tried to ignore him, but I caught his words anyway. "Laguna . . . the conference isn't ON Thursday . . . it's –"  
  
"On Wednesday." I stated hollowly.  
  
She trusted me.  
  
"I know."  
  
I betrayed her trust.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. .author's note. .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Laguna's lying to Quistis? Breaking the first thing that bound them together in the first place? When the string of trust is cut, will their thread of feelings for each other be enough to tie them together? Deep, ne?  
  
WOW. Yeah, Verdanii, you reviewed every chapter at once, and I opened my inbox to see: "You have 21 new messages!" Shocker. . . .and your review was amusing as well, Lanatic Pandora1 . . . though not quite how I would have phrased it . . .  
  
I suppose Aquarian Wind is right about the lemon (and lack of) problem . . . sniff. . . yes, you've all been so great . . . and so, I reward you with a preview (AKA Minor Spoiler). There's a major plot element coming up, which ends in Quistis FULLY realizing her . . . suppressions.  
  
After which, she throws herself upon him, and they have mad and wild monkey sex. Bow wow chicka bow wow . . .  
  
. . .  
  
. . . wait, no, that's just my hormones talking . . . ignore that last part. Hee. So evil . . . 


	22. quite surprised

(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Well, life sucks. I got over it. I wasn't writers block, it was the discovery of such sites as Elfwood and Go Gaia that kept me so long . . . they ate up my computer time like the ravenous beasts they are. Grr. (Thank you, PinkOpium, for the deserved kick back in the right direction. . . heh, dudette . . .)  
  
I also noticed – the FF8 section here on ff.net is slowing down considerably from when I first got here. Disturbing, really. Even if it's just one–shots, you should post it. . . . mebbe they'll do an Advent Children to it . . . . ? ? ?  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I frowned at the plate in front of me. The noodles, which had seemed a good idea for my ravenous stomach at the time, were now making me nauseous. I ignored the churning long enough to take a small bite, and after I swallowed, shoved the dish away from me and glared balefully at it.  
  
That argument with Laguna had come up out of nowhere. Nowhere.  
  
It wasn't his coarse language, I saw right through that attempt scare me away. Attempt meaning, it hadn't worked, of course; but yet it did have the potential to anger me. I was fairly certain, however, that it hadn't been the trigger.  
  
I had blamed his faulty sense of chivalry, and taken the part of the disdainful woman looking down upon the chauvinistic man. I'd regretted that for three days now.  
  
Was it really my offense at his effort to protect me that had made me angry? I had been protected by him before. Those matters had been of life and death to boot, instead of mere reputation. What had caused my temper to raise so much?  
  
Was it really offense at his chivalry, which now that I looked back on it, was sweet in a strange Laguna sort of way?  
  
Or perhaps . . . . it was anger of his rejection of me as a partner . . .  
  
I scowled. As much as I hated to admit it, it was a possibility I had to consider. Laguna was becoming almost too important to me. I enjoyed watching him, I listened excruciatingly close to his words, I put great portent into phrases that, out of anyone else, would have been dismissed as cliché. I enjoyed far too much than necessary about the man.  
  
I leaned back in my seat, frowning at my forgotten lunch distractedly. I had identified the source of the gnawing in my stomach; it seemed the cruel and sadistic gnawing of pure guilt in my chest was cutting my appetite severely.  
  
Laguna had been deeply offended by something I said, and bitten back. I deserved it; I had no right to hurt him. What had I said? The anger had hindered my observation skills. . . when had he switched from protector to antagonist? Was it too late to apologize, or should I wait longer for his anger to cool? Was he still angry, or was he as guilty as I?  
  
I winced. Why would he feel guilty? He had no need to feel guilty, it was entirely my fault. I'd probably made him feel miserable and hurt, he had no right to be anything but angry. My frown deepened, and my sense of rigidity and strict posture abandoned me.  
  
I slumped over the table, and rested my forehead on the cool porcelain top. I wondered idly if my hair was floating into my pasta, but had only a slight interest in that as I mulled over my options. Not helping. I banged my head a few times.  
  
I had very few. . . . options, I mean. Not much to mull over. So I began to wallow quite pitifully . . . in, well, pity. That wasn't helping the situation either, but then again, neither was sitting in the cafeteria with my hair in the fettuccini.  
  
"Oh, Quistis . . . you look a mess."  
  
I shot up to glare pointedly at the interrupter of my wallowing. Rinoa, tagged, of course, by Selphie. Squall and Irvine were no doubt in the area as well. I sighed, and sat back up. "What?"  
  
Selphie tutted, wagging her finger at me. "Tsk, tsk! You don't argue with a client! It's against SeeD regulations, yeah?"  
  
"What on earth are you talking about?" I cursed Selphie's perception. Women's intuitions weren't made to be turned upon the like gender.  
  
Rinoa sat down next to me, ignoring my obviously foul mood to pat me sympathetically (or so she thought) on the back. "It's obvious you were fighting with Laguna . . . what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing! I'm perfectly fine." Of clourse I was fine! As though I would let them realize that lack of Laguna was affecting me. I grabbed my lunch and yanked it towards me, taking a bite to prove my fine-ness. And then choked and swallowed unwillingly, hoping that my feeling of having swallowed a basin of live worms wasn't showing. From Rinoa's wince, it did.  
  
"I didn't think so," Rinoa said quietly. With all the sugary sweet worry behind that remark, she might as well have added a 'sweetheart' or 'honey' after that sentence.  
  
"So tell me, what's up?" Selphie grinned down at me. I sighed. This was pointless, if they didn't get it out of me, they'd flee over and pry it out of Laguna. And Laguna, not being used to Selphie's 'touchy' habits, would spill everything.  
  
"You see," I explained, placing my hand on my chin eloquently, "It really is all my fault. I should be going over and apologizing, but I'm not sure if he'll accept it."  
  
Rinoa shook her head. "Laguna isn't in good shape either."  
  
"Yeah," Selphie slouched, and pointed at my noodles, asking if I was going to eat them. I waved my permission, and she stuffed her face. "We," she mumbled through bites, "only knew to come to you cause Sir Laguna was actin' weird . . ."  
  
"Weird?" I inqured rapidly, as Rinoa elbowed Selphie broadly. Selphie choked.  
  
"She means . . . well, he's pacing the hallways upstairs, frowning." Rinoa said calmly, as though she had no part in Selphie's coughing fit. "It's easy to see where Squall got his frown from . . . anyway, he was talking to Kiros, and we heard him asking Kiros advice."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Kiros apparently thought it was all Sir Laguna's fault, and told him that he dug his own grave." Selphie piped, recovering rapidly. "They said some other stuff too, but we didn't get any of it. A conference or party or something."  
  
I nodded. "I know what that is. So, you think if I apologized . . ."  
  
Rinoa grinned. "He'll fall over his face to accept."  
  
I smiled, and a brief daydream of Laguna sweeping me across the dance floor crossed my mind. "This is perfect," I remarked. "Just in time for the conference tomorrow."  
  
Selphie blinked, and Rinoa paled, which was quite a feat since Rinoa was extremely pale to begin with. I taped my glasses against the table nervously. "What is it?"  
  
Selphie swallowed, and looked to Rinoa for permission to speak. Rinoa was in no condition to approve, but she nodded tersely. Selphie sulked, and looked p at me. "They left for the convention thingy an hour ago . . ." she faltered.  
  
I froze.  
  
What?  
  
"We assumed you knew . . ." Rinoa said softly.  
  
They had left without me.  
  
It began to make sense . . . Of course . . . Kiros had been about to say the correct date, but Laguna cut in to give the false one. . . Laguna had regretted breaking trust, and Kiros said he dug his own grave and deserved it. Laguna had lied. I knew he didn't like to lie . . .  
  
They . . . no, LAGUNA had lied to me. Laguna. Had. Lied. To. Me.  
  
Laguna had never lied to me before . . . had he? I thought back to times he had spoken to me. He had told the truth to my knowledge, but in many of those matters, my knowledge was extremely limited . . .  
  
What to do? Laguna might need me, but I had been ordered not to go, and then defied his orders once already. Now, when clearly my client did not want me, I should by the rulebook, stay put.  
  
By the rulebook. . . I always played by the rules. Always, because the rules were relatively safe . . . but this wasn't an ordinary client, this was LAGUNA. This was Laguna, and I had broken more rules over that man then I had in my entire SeeD career. When put in that perspective, I had nothing to do but one thing . . . I swallowed tightly, to find that my throat didn't work properly.  
  
I clamped the muscles in my throat back. "I . . . see." I managed to choke out, before getting up and heading blindly to my room. Rinoa and Selphie didn't stop me.  
  
Kiros . . . wouldn't he have told me? No, his loyalties were with Laguna . . Damn that man! Damn you and your cursed charisma, your damn pretty eyes . . . To think I actually WANTED him. Hah! Like I could ever dream of him laying me down on silk sheets, running his strong, capable hands over me, and doing horrible, wonderful things to me until I died . . .  
  
I shook my head. No! I'm angry at him, and I'm happy for it! Thanking Hyne briefly for my foresight of packing in advance, and grabbed the duffel bag neatly placed by my door, and briskly headed towards the Ragnorak.  
  
I had stolen it once before, and now I'd do it again. I clamped my fist around my bags; I'd change in the ship. Even an international conference wouldn't dare refuse the hero Quistis Trepe. . . especially when she wore a red dress.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
"It was a bad move, Laguna." Kiros straightened the bow on my tux fastidiously before turning to the mirror himself. "She isn't going to be happy." He turned towards me and stared almost blankly back.  
  
We were in one of the dressing rooms – yeah, dressing room, they treat these things like the plays they actually are – and the pink motif they had going on was really starting to annoy me . . .  
  
I looked briefly into the mirror, but wasn't really seeing much of anything. Well, okay I take that back. I saw a lying bastard. Flinching, I turned back to Kiros.  
  
"I know, man." I rubbed my arm spastically. "But what else was I supposed to DO?"  
  
"Let her come." I looked at him incredulously. Like it was really that easy; to act like I had no respect for her reputation? Like I had no respect for –  
  
"Her freedom of choice?" Kiros cut in. I blinked; I'd spoken outloud? Kiros slammed a paper down and prodded me hard in the shoulder. "You've done some pretty stupid things in the time that I've known you, Laguna, but this has gotta take the cake. . . . or at least a pretty big slice."  
  
Cake? Where?  
  
"She's not an idiot, Laguna, I wouldn't be surprised if she was on her way here now, hell bent on busting a cap in your – "  
  
I grinned. "Actually, I wouldn't mind if she did."  
  
Kiros glared. "You know what, Laguna?" he struggled for a second, his face scowling, before he just slumped slightly. "Argh, I give up. I have a few phone calls to make."  
  
I shot him a Look, which he scoffed at, and left the room with only a slightly consoling comment. "Relax, even if I did call her, it'd be too late for her to get here now."  
  
I avoided the mirror as I crossed the room.  
  
I had to keep my mind blank of Quistis, I had to focus on surviving tonight so I could tell Galbadia they could up and stick it. I had to make sure that Esthar would be run over by the Galbadian army, and that the scummy politicians – not including myself of course – didn't completely wreck my country's economy.  
  
Then I could get back to obsessing over the wonderful creature that was Quistis.  
  
Kiros was waiting by the door into the overly extravagant ballroom – typical of Galbadian architecture – and I could hear the announcer calling out the representatives. My big entrance was coming up. I looked over at him and mouthed, 'is it time yet?'  
  
He nodded, and I kept as out of sight as possible. It was easier than I thought, since no one was really looking for me, what with being 'dead' and all. It was kinda annoying, you know? Getting ignored? Not used to it. Eh, well hey, my status was about to change considerably. To, you know, being 'alive'.  
  
I guess it wasn't a great idea to get into that chain of thought, cuz next thing I knew, Kiros was shoving me towards the door. "Kiros," I hissed, "Is everything ready?"  
  
"Everyone's as clueless as humanely possible," Kiros acknowledged. "I mean, there's only so much silence money can buy." He checked my ppearance one more time. "Yup, you look ready to kill. I got your back, man. Don't worry, they haven't had time to plan to get in another shot at you."  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
Kiros gave his katal a precursory check . . . I noticed he had a whip on him, too. I guess he'd planned for Quistis but didn't completely unregister it or something. Kiros noticed my sudden queasiness and slapped my on the back. "So don't look so on edge! You're up!"  
  
Shaking away my gut feeling, I grinned at him. "Showtime."  
  
And I walked calmly into the room, and tapped on the annoucer's shoulder. "Hey, I think you missed someone."  
  
The man, who had smiled instantaeneously at everyone else he had called in and practically been bubbling at to every important dignitary there, turned to me with a scowl. "Nonsense. The list has been read, see?"  
  
I grinned at him to make him uneasy. "Aw, don't you recognize me? I'm almost," I stressed my words delicately, "hurt. Ah, well, not my job I'm gonna lose." I was still grinning, waiting for him to realize exactly who I was.  
  
Yeah, my ego is the size of a country. It has a right to be, to, because it only took a few secs for the poor guy to pale considerably. I'm pretty sure it's unhealthy for a guy to loose that much blood to the head at once. "I, uh . . . President Laguna Loire? I didn't think . . . but you're . . ."  
  
I turned from him and headed for the rest of the people. "Dead? Nah, it takes more than my ship to get blasted into a million pieces of flying shrapnel and debris to kill me." Seriously. They just don't make guys like me anymore. I mean, I'm funny, heroic, responsible, pretty damn sexy . . .  
  
Lying, cheating, backstabbing . . . .  
  
NO. I struggled to keep down my wince. Keep your mind on the scummy politicians, Laguna. No distractions.  
  
I checked to make sure Kiros was there – a few feet away, mingling with the stewardesses – and eyed my singlemost important target for the night. Koryu Deling.  
  
There he was, licked back dark hair, overexpensive suit, tailored to hide the still slightly obvious paunch. Looking urbane, and talking with several women half his age; the sleazeball. Look at him! He was practically drooling. I can't think of a single girl who would actually lay the guy if he weren't as rich as he was. . . . perverted . . . bastard . . .  
  
. . . I winced . . . what the hell did that make me with Quistis, then? . . . Well, at least I didn't look at her like she was meat. Not much of a consolation.  
  
I walked up to him, still grinning my best grin. The girls behind him saw me, and their eyes widened considerably. He didn't notice that, of course, since his eyes really weren't anywhere near their faces (If you know what I mean.)  
  
I coughed for his attention, no reaction. I tapped his shoulder lightly, and he turned around slowly, flashing the I'm-annoyed-at-whoever-the-hell- you-are-but-you're-probably-important-so-I'll-tolerate-you smile.  
  
Until he saw my face. He paled even more so then the other guy had, and I kept grinning, even as he began to turn even more disturbing colors that I hadn't even known skin could take. "You . . . no, wait, how are you . . ?" He looked completely and totally scared out of his wits.  
  
. . .If, ya know, he'd had wits to begin with. Heh.  
  
I grinned at him even wider. "Well, hey, I guess I better congratulate you on the successful usurpation, huh?"  
  
He sputtered for a bit, but obviously didn't have much to say, so I continued right over him. "Well, hey, you know I won't hold the whole blowing up my stuff completely against you; I mean, I've got enough cash to rebuild the Apocalypse a gazillion times over." I nodded affably, and amiably continued in the tone of voice Quistis would use to discuss lunch. "Not exactly the best plan, you'd have to launch on my actual city to get anywhere."  
  
He had shut up, finally, and looked at me blankly. I went on. "But you know, if you did blow up Esthar into tiny itty bitty pieces, how would you take advantage of our superior weaponry and ballistic defense technology, not to mention medicine, household . . ." I ticked them of my fingers. "Computer hardware – and software, communications, propulsion, space exploration capabilities . . ."  
  
I looked over at him from the corner of my eye. "Should I continue?"  
  
Oh yeah, cool snide remark muse, thou art my bitch.  
  
He'd put on a slightly more smirking smile as I'd continued talking. "No, thank you. A shame you weren't able to tell us beforehand of your appearance, President Loire." Translation: Crap, I hate surprises. Why wasn't I told of this?  
  
I toned down my grin to a slightly more . . . dangerous smile. "Well, you know . . . I've been so busy, what with chaos reigning supreme and all." Translation: If you knew, I'd be dead by now, you conniving bastard, you.  
  
He turned back to the ladies, with a parting shot. "Well then, watch your back . . . President." Like that needed translating. And like I'd leave that soon. I grabbed his arm in a firm grip that in other circumstances might have seemed friendly.  
  
"And you, yours." I felt my smile become more forced as I squeezed his arm harder. I didn't even squeeze that hard, but hey, he's a fat guy born to his money. This was a subtle reminder that I was a hella lot stronger than he was. Oh yeah, and he paled even more and scurried off, mumbling some crap about crap I couldn't make out.  
  
I gave a polite bow to the ladies and shot another cursory glance around the room. Kiros was heading door again? He wasn't that creeped out, was he? I mean, the only reason he'd have to guard he door was to keep someone out, or maybe in. I mean, you, I'd scared the little weiner Koryu, but it wasn't he'd do anything drastic.  
  
For the moment, anyhoo.  
  
A delicate, noble-ish clearing of a throat to my right caught my attention, although a little part of me niggled that it sounded slightly . . . you know . . . like . . .  
  
I turned around, flashing my best Hey-you-know-you-like-me-and-I-like-you diplomatic smile. And then tried not to look like I'd been punched in the gut by a moomba, which would be kind of surprising, since the furry little guys love me.  
  
Quistis – YES, QUISTIS! – raised an eyebrow aristocratically at me. "Laguna Loire," she said slowly, in a huskier voice then I remembered her ever using. I shivered as she continued, "you have some explaining to do."  
  
I looked around; was it just me, or did the room shrink considerably in the past ten seconds? No, seriously, every exit seemed to have zoomed to about ten miles away. The door looked tiny, and then the crowd . . . and Kiros . . . Kiros was standing at the door, glaring at me. I hated him at that point, oh yes. He sided with her, huh? Escape was out of the question . . . Oh yeah, I screwed up.  
  
"Er . . ." I leaned sharply to the right as my leg began to clamp up on me again. "Uh, hey, Quistis!" I put up my hand in a cheery wave of greeting. "Surprise seeing you here!" I winced at my overly happy and obviously false voice.  
  
Quistis, ever the stoic, lowered her eyebrow darkly. "I'm sure it is."  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
Heh heh . . . Yessss . . . I didn't get Laguna quite right cuz I just finished writing a slew of technical crap for my group's project. No details, but . . . think 133t. joo kn0w?  
  
You know you love me . . . so . . . 


	23. violence unwanted

Pink Opium brought me out of my fanfiction stupor with her miraculous use of the word 'bint' and I don't even know what 'bint' means.  
  
I'm semi depressed. I had a specific mood in mind for this chapter, with Quistis feeling bitter, but not quite being able to get truly mad at Laguna. She ended up . . . just seeming high. This is the closest I've gotten to fluff, and . . . . yeah. This could be one of those PWP One-Shots humming around, it's just that fluffy.  
  
Well, its not POINTLESS fluff, so that redeems it, ne?  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. quistis .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I should be angry at him, shouldn't I? I mused as I looked at him, annoyed looke firmly on my face. I had gone through about twenty different stages in the overly short ride here, and almost all involving me envisioning one Laguna Loire in some immense form of pain. However, now that he was here in front of me . . .  
  
What was I supposed to be doing again? Ah . . . I looked at him distantly. I had to look at him distantly, you understand, because if I didn't I'd probably jump the poor man. He was wearing a tuxedo. He looked good in a tuxedo. . . a tragic understatement, but if I even began to go into the details . . . I stifled a cough.  
  
I tried to gather the rather pitiful fragments of my consciousness together. He looked . . . The man was adorable, he leg was twitching, and he was looking at me like he was afraid I'd hit him. He had every right to be afraid of me! I was horribly angry with him, remember?  
  
"Laguna, what exactly did you think you were going to accomplish by doing that?" I crossed my arms loosely. "I hope you didn't think I was actually not going to find out, did you?"  
  
He gulped, and rubbed his head sheepishly. "Well . . . I can truthfully say that I, uh . . . "He looked up through his bangs. He looked . . . . like a puppy. I winced at my clichéd comparison, but he really truly did.  
  
Laguna opened his mouth to continue, but I felt my hand snap up in a halting motion. You could have heard his mouth click shut; I really didn't want to hear him mumble out an apology.  
  
An apology wouldn't really do anything, the look on his face showed he was sorry. His pride had probably taken enough damage; I glanced around the room in a cursory fashion before turning back to him. Laguna's face had changed to being slightly curious, although still worried and repentant.  
  
I shook my head. What was I doing? I was supposed to be shrieking hysterically at him. Unfortunately for MY pride, I really couldn't do that without messing up all the plans Kiros and I had set up for Laguna to be here. No, a woman in a jealous rage would not be a good marker for the triumphant return of Laguna Loire, President of Esthar.  
  
I looked him in the eye, and with a light click of my tongue, took on an admonishing tone. "Well? Aren't you going to ask me to dance?"  
  
Laguna looked down at me, and blinked before his face broke into his wide grin. It wasn't the grin that made me catch my breath, or make my heart beat faster, or make me want to run quickly in the opposite direction. No, it was the eyes.  
  
The eyes . . . was I dreaming? Did I see something in them beyond the happiness at having my forgiveness? Besides trust, friendship, besides his respect? Was I imagining things? Was I?  
  
The dance floor was half-full. I don't remember getting there, but it wasn't important anyway . . . at least not compared to the next few minutes. Had you asked me at the time, I either would have told you it was the best day of my life, or perhaps slapped you across the face for interrupting me.  
  
While most people would coin the waltz as the most romantic dance, the samba is probably the most sensual. More rhythmic, and more physical contact. As we slid into the classic dance position, and others around us did the same, I noticed that while there were young couples around us, there were also those whose ages differed more than Laguna's and mine.  
  
I wondered, for some reason, if Laguna had ever had an affair. He was a far cry, to be sure, from the dirty old politicians I'd been fending off all night, but surely he hadn't remained chaste all those years.  
  
I didn't wonder much more after that. The music started, and I realized as I slipped into the movements by rote that this was not going to be your average dance. For one, average dances don't bring a heat from your stomach to your face, and then back down to your legs. Also, average dances . . . just . . . .  
  
I wasn't thinking beyond that point, and don't remember much until the end.  
  
He was staring at my eyes, almost concentrating on me in the most serous way possible. The furrow in his brow denoted that he was deep in thought, but the way in he was staring . . . there was only one possible subject to his deliberations . . . me. I swallowed tightly.  
  
The music slowed; we slowed as well, and the steps to the dance forced us to step almost hip to hip. I swayed far more boldly towards him then required, but Laguna took it in stride as we swirled across the floor. . . .  
  
The music . . . . stopped.  
  
I looked up at him almost dazedly. It . . . was over. I disentangled my fingers from the lock of hair I'd been toying with, and acutely felt Laguna's fingers slide from my waist back to his side. He was, I noticed with a giddy eye, blushing, although from the heat of my face I could tell his face wasn't glowing half as much as mine.  
  
We faced each other for a good ten seconds, before we both realized just how close the dance had left us standing. I backtracked a shuffled step, and Laguna coughed and stepped back as well, muttering something I didn't quite catch.  
  
I smiled at him in way I hadn't smiled in years, and he smiled back – not grin, no, he almost softly smiled. I was about to say something when the smile suddenly melted.  
  
He was no longer quite looking at me, and he was standing strangely still.  
  
Laguna stepped back stoically and raised his hands into the air. I looked at him quizzically before I realized. . . .  
  
Deling was directly behind him, pointing a Magnum at Laguna's head.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. laguna .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
I was tense. Hey, who wouldn't be, in my situation? I was interrupted from dancing with one of the most gorgeous women I have ever met by some prick with a gun.  
  
"Well, President Loire," A familiar voice said with an audible leer.  
  
Deling? He didn't really have the balls to do this . . . did he?  
  
"We're going to turn around nice and slow," He oozed, and coughed before continuing, "And maybe you won't get hurt."  
  
Wait . . . we're gonna what in the what-what in the who what where why now? I turned.  
  
Deling had a gun to my head. What the hell was he DOING? This is NOT the place . . . in a back alley or somewhere no one'd see, I'd expect it of him, but here? I mean, no one was gonna try anything on him while he had a pistol shoved in my face, but he was so DEAD after this.  
  
He was grinning wider than I ever did. . . . I blinked in realization.  
  
The man had gone insane.  
  
I was perfectly aware that this guy might shoot me at any second. Boom, I'm dead. I glanced at the door where Kiros had previously been, and wondered exactly where he had gone. Quistis was to my right, I think; I couldn't see. I was focusing more on the gun in front of me.  
  
Hell, he was crazier then me. It's like we're in a kid's book, some idiot story . . . . 'we're all a little mad here,' wasn't it? I looked at him. "Okay. . . ." I held my hands up in a placating manner; DEFINITELY don't want to piss this guy off. "What are your terms?" I said calmly.  
  
Deling smirked. I squinted one eye at him in disgust, but obviously he didn't notice, cuz he was too busy laughing. "So now you listen?" He rolled his head to the side. "I'm afraid it's a bit too late for you, but . . . that treaty would be nice." His manic grin faded to an amiable smile. "Save your country from my weaponry and all; you see, Esthar's really no use to me if it doesn't cooperate."  
  
I was having a hard time taking the guy seriously at this point, although the gun he practically shoved up my nose was helping a bit. If he was going to bomb Esthar . . . . The guy was pretty much threatening world domination in front of every major world leader.  
  
What an idiot.  
  
I shook my head slowly, letting my serious face slip as an incredulous half- smile curled my lip. I waggled the fingers of my still upraised hands. "Sorry," I said, equally amiably, more cheery than even I thought I could pull. "I can't do that."  
  
Deling's face instantly turned ugly. What, he was bi-polar too? How did this guy get followers? "I could kill you right now," he said slowly, his angry face forcing out that friendly tone, "you know."  
  
As if I could forget that little fact. "Yeah," I said slowly. "You could. And Esthar would retaliate with. . . ." I cocked my head, as if thinking. "Severity." I narrowed my eyes, still smiling. "Galbadia's really no use to you if it's all blown up."  
  
I didn't mind dying. I mean, hell, I was scared and kinda ticked I wouldn't be able to tell Quistis just how much I liked her, and stuff like that . . . . I didn't really mind dying if blowing up Galbadia was the result. I'd be quite HAPPY with that result, actually. Bastard.  
  
He cocked the gun – completely unnecessary, but it's good for theatrics at this point. He shoved the shaking barrel so close I was cross eyed looking at it. I closed my eyes . . . . and waited. . . . . and waited . . .  
  
And waited. I opened one eye, and the shaking pistol was no longer pointed at me.  
  
My chest tied itself into a knot and trampled itself somewhere below my gut. It was pointed at . . . .  
  
Quistis.  
  
I felt my entire abdomen rise and flip over, to huddle somewhere behind my lungs. SHIT.  
  
I tried to keep my face straight as possible, but obviously it didn't work because Deling was smirking again.  
  
"Ah, what about now?" I heard distantly in a poisonous voice.  
  
"Don't you dare, Laguna Loire!" Quistis didn't move or struggle – the strength in that woman amazed me – but her nostrils flared slightly in indignation.  
  
Strong as she was . . . . that . . . . was a very stupid thing to do. Now Deling knew that she wasn't just a random bystander, that I actually knew her. Eh, well, SeeDs don't deal with hostages, they shoot them. I guess I couldn't expect Quistis to know hostage situation protocol.  
  
I shot her a look. "Quistis, calm down." I know what I'm doing.  
  
She quieted, but Deling peered at her face, and giggled. "Quistis? As in, Quistis Trepe? A hero of Time Compression?" He laughed louder. "Loire, you have a fine taste in women, if nothing else. I can and will shoot both you and your girlfriend."  
  
Girlfriend . . . .hey, that'd be cool . . . . but the stunned look on Quistis's face told me not to comment on that. I shrugged my shoulders. "Look, my life is nothing compared to the well-being of my country, and . . . Quistis is paid everyday to risk her life." I didn't meet her eyes on that one. "My bodyguard is already making very important phone calls," I hoped, "So really, if you shoot us, it's no biggie."  
  
He cocked an eyebrow in a way that eerily reminded me of Quistis. "And if I shoot her and let you live?"  
  
Ah. I gulped.  
  
THAT was a biggie.  
  
(¯`'·.¸(¯`'·. author's note .·'´¯)¸.·'´¯)  
  
VERY short . . . . and, oh . . . . right in the middle of their moment, too. Go ahead, hate me! Hah! Only a few chapters left. Lemme think . . . three, four more chapters . . . ?  
  
This was THE hardest chapter to write, to date. Egad, I take forever with dramatics. . . . you'd expect me to be able to whip these things out faster now that we're close to the end! 


End file.
